


The Heiress

by Sparklingstarsandmoonbeams



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Downton Abbey, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Downton Abbey Fusion, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, F/M, Inspired by Downton Abbey, Inspired by Game of Thrones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-05 06:59:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 57,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15165164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparklingstarsandmoonbeams/pseuds/Sparklingstarsandmoonbeams
Summary: The year is 1910 and Rob Stark's family fortune and estate is in financial ruin. To save his home and the people he loves, he agrees to marry an American heiress. What he could not have expected was to fall in love with his betrothed or that marrying her would lead to such danger.





	1. Who's Who in The Heiress

**Author's Note:**

> The story is a lot of Game of Thrones characters set into Edwardian England with a hint of Downton Abbey. As such, many of the names have been modified to reflect this time period.  
> Robb-Rob  
> Catelyn-Catherine  
> Sansa-Sarah  
> Arya-Anna
> 
> No disrespect to Mr. Martin or the writers/creators of GoT.

Who’s Who in The Heiress  
A/N: So after an OBSCENE amount of time spent researching GoT online, this is what I came up with. I did what I could to keep some part of the names and places connected with each person/family. Either way, I hope this is somewhat helpful in keeping track of the characters. 

 

Casterly Manor  
Jamie and Cecily Lannister-40  
Lord and Lady Westeros  
Marquess and Marchioness of Westeros  
Geoffrey, Thomas, Marcella (children) 

Winterfell Hall  
Robert Stark-28  
Lord Northland  
Edward (deceased), Catherine-49 (parents)  
Sarah-17, Anna-15, Brandon-10 (siblings)  
Earl of Northland

Blackwall Castle  
Jon Targent-27  
Lord Snowden  
Earl of Snowden  
Linnea, Malcolm (parents-Linnea is Edward Stark’s sister making Rob etc. Jon’s cousins)

Millnorth House  
Ramsey Bolton-31  
Lord Dreadfort  
Earl of Dreadfort

Twins Crossing  
Walter Frey-60  
Lord Rivers  
Baron of Rivers  
Rosalind, Steven, Oliver (children) 

Arryn Manor  
Peter Baelish-52  
Lord Vale  
Earl of the Vale

Sunderly Abbey  
Theo Pyke-30  
Lord Greyjoy  
Marquess of Greyjoy (inherits upon father’s death)


	2. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is very loosely a Game of Thrones AU set in 1910 England. Some of the characters you know and love from the television show will appear in this story. Some will not. If you are expecting dragons, witchcraft, white walkers, or winter to come this is probably not the story for you. I will be taking characters from GoT and manipulating them to fit the story and time period. No disrespect to Mr. Martin’s books or the HBO series. (And yes, I’m aware that I am changing the spellings of characters’ names.)

August 1, 1910

Winterfell Hall

Pacing the floor of the study, Robert Stark, Earl of Northland, looked from the papers on the desk to his mother, grim faced and rigidly poised.

“And you are certain that there is no other way?”

Catherine shook her head solemnly. “If there were any other way, I would have already had it done. This offer…proposal, is our only option.”

Sighing, he stopped pacing long enough to rifle through the documents once more. It was a significant amount of money. Enough to pay off their creditors with plenty leftover to continue to run the estate, which had been in the Stark family for six generations.

A hand on his arm made him turn slightly.

“I know this is not what you had hoped for, Rob. Truly. And if I could make it so, I would see you married to Louisa Grey as I know you had prepared for. Unfortunately since your father’s untimely demise our circumstances have changed and we must now do what is required of us.”

“There is no “us,” Mother. I must do what is required of me as the eldest son whether it is what I wish or not.”

“You must put aside whatever thoughts you had and consider your family. Consider your sisters and brother. Consider me. If we…you..if you do not accept this offer we will be ruined. Would you have us all thrown into the streets? Do you wish to see your sisters washing floors or working in a factory? And what of Brandon? Is he to become a pauper?”

“That’s enough, Mother,” he commanded. Her hysterics only added to the headache threatening to burst behind his eyes.

Edward Stark was a good man, loyal, fair, good to his tenants and employees. He had been a man who doted on his family. He’d also been reckless with money and the borrowing he’d been doing for years had finally caught up with him. Upon his death, the family lawyer had informed Robert there was no money. In fact, the bit of money they did have left would not even begin to touch the debts his father owed.

Closing his eyes he pinched the top of his nose and taking a deep breath, scrawled his signature across the bottom of the page.

“Accept Morgan’s offer and tell him the wedding will take place in December, not in the spring as he has suggested. He can take it or leave it.”

Before Catherine could speak her son was handing the papers to her and heading out the French doors to the gardens. The panels of glass rattled their protest as strongly as her son.

August 23, 1910

Newport, Rhode Island

“The offer has been signed by both parties, Mr. Morgan—“

“Excellent, Foster. Excellent.”

“There is one small stipulation, sir.”

“A stipulation? Don’t tell me they’re asking for more money. I was assured the offer was more than fair!”

“It is not a matter of money. It is concern over the proposed timeline.”

Morgan waved his hand for the lawyer to speak further.

“They have requested the wedding take place in December rather than next spring.”

“December?! But that’s hardly enough time at all. There are things to be prepared. A trousseau, a dress…Henry, it’s not enough time!” Amelia Morgan protested, breaking the silence she’d maintained throughout the conversation.

“Hush, woman,” Henry Morgan commanded his wife. “If it is a December wedding they want than they shall have it,” he said, signing his name to the document before him. “And now wife, you may let our daughter know that she can begin to prepare to wed a British noble.”


	3. Chapter 3

September 19, 1910  
The Greyjoy

Staring out across the water, Emily Morgan tried to imagine that she could still see Lady Liberty, torch aloft in her hand, the outline of New York City behind her. It was a vastly more interesting image than the miles and miles of endless water that stretched out before her.

It had taken her mother less than a month to prepare for this trip. Emily was not surprised by how easily or quickly her parents could part with her. Still, she had thought she might have more time to prepare. There had been hushed conversations and rumors of a betrothal for the last eight months and she had avoided paying them much attention until the same name continued to be brought up again and again. The Earl of Northland. He was evidently a relation of her mother’s widowed Aunt Eugenia and it was Eugenia who had first mentioned the match to the Earl’s mother.

Now she was two days away from meeting this man who was to be her husband and she knew hardly anything about him. He had sent a letter of course, a formal, stilted note in scrawling penmanship. It had assured her that she would be afforded every comfort upon arrival, that she should make a list of what qualities she desired in a lady’s maid so that an advertisement might be placed and applicants could begin to be interviewed when she had settled in. He’d signed it Northland; a large, firm signature that revealed nothing about the man. Her note in response had not elicited further correspondence.

Sighing she made her way back to the first class deck, entering her plush accommodations and tossing the hat she had been wearing upon the bed.

“Miss?” the maid assigned to them by the ship interrupted, “Your mother and father have requested that you join them for tea in the salon.”

Closing her eyes, Emily took a deep breath. “Thank you, Minnie. I’ll change and hurry down to meet them.”

“Do you need any assistance, miss?”

“No, thank you. I can manage a dress on my own.”

Minnie bobbed a curtsy, shutting the door behind her.

Loosening the fastening at the back of her dress Emily dipped out of the fabric, allowing the gown to pool at her feet. Looking through her wardrobe she found a pale yellow dress that her parents should find no fault with. And then she remembered her parents would find fault with anything she said or did.

September 20, 1910  
Winterfell Hall

Pacing the length of the study, Robert studied the clock upon the mantel. Nearly twenty minutes had gone by since the butler had informed him that his sisters and mother would be ready shortly. He had no idea what was taking them so long but he was worried they would miss the train to London if they did not appear soon.

“But why may I not go with you?” Brandon asked sullenly from the chaise. He was ten and took everything as a personal affront.

“Because we are only going for three nights and will be back on Friday morning. Mother doesn’t wish to interrupt your lessons.”

“But Sarah and Anna get to come with you!”

Robert sighed, running a hand through his wavy hair, “Sarah and Anna are accompanying us to welcome your new sister.”

Brandon sank back among the cushions, a petulant expression on his face. “I don’t understand why you have to marry anyway. We’re all perfectly happy.”

Looking at his brother Robert felt a pang of understanding. It had always been just the 6 of them and adding an outsider felt strangely awkward.

“I know you want to come but I promise if you cooperate with your tutor that we’ll go hunting when I return.”

“Just you and me?” Brandon asked.

“Just the two of us.”

Brandon raced from the room nearly knocking over his mother and eldest sister in the process.

“Whatever has gotten into him?” Catherine asked.

“I promised to take him hunting when we return.”

“But you’ll be so busy readying for…”

“We’ll go hunting. Just the two of us,” he said, tone final,“Now, where is Anna? We really must be going if we’re to make the 1:15.”

“Presumably fighting Lyndon over having to wear a gown,” Sarah, the sibling closest in age to him, replied.

“Sarah, go back upstairs and tell your sister that if she doesn’t wear the dress I had lain out for her than she can stay here with Brandon.”

“But Mother, that isn’t fair!”

“Sarah, now please,” Catherine ordered.

Huffing a breath she glared at her mother and brother before leaving the room.

“Are you certain it’s wise to bring them? They’ll only bicker and criticize,” Robert said.

“I’ll speak with both of them again and remind them of their duties on this trip,” Catherine assured her son. “Now, how are you?”

“I’m fine, Mother.”

Catherine laid a hand on her son’s arm, “You are doing a very noble thing for this family.”

Shrugging her off he gave a short nod. Noble. Of course he was doing it. His father would have expected him to do whatever was necessary to save their family. Still, it didn’t make the situation any easier. He knew hardly anything about his bride to be. Eugenia Percy, a cousin by marriage on the Tully side had mentioned the match to his mother. He’d written her, of course, a brief note of introduction and her response had been prompt. She’d listed the qualities she would look for in a lady’s maid but assured him that she was more than capable of managing on her own for a time and not to worry about placing an advertisement when he must be busy with the running of the estate. The one photograph he had seen was nearly six or seven years old and showed a young, coltish young girl, all limbs and gangly features. She’d looked rather severe beside her parents, eyes serious, a thin lipped smile on her face. And to make matters worse, she was American. His father’s lifelong friend, Robert Baratheon had recently remarried an American heiress causing a scandal among the ton and leaving Robert’s brothers Stanford and Renald grasping for power and influence with their new sister in law. It didn’t help that Lucinda was one of the most insipid, vain, and shallow women he had ever met or that her penchant for sharing the latest gossip and innuendo made her persona non grata among the nobles. No, he was not at all pleased about the idea of an American bride.

“Robert? Rob?” his mother called, drawing him out of his fog.

“Hmm?”

 

“I asked how you thought Anna looked in her new traveling gown?”

Robert turned towards his sisters, both gathered by the door, both shifting nervously beneath their mother’s stern gaze.

“You look lovely, Anna,” he said, “And you also, Sarah.”

His sisters smiled, pleased with their brother’s compliment and his attention. He had been distracted and impatient with them of late, something very uncommon for their normally attentive and thoughtful older brother. They both knew the reason for Rob’s distance but it didn’t make it any less difficult to bear.

The clock on the mantel sounded the time, reminding everyone of the job ahead. “Are you ready?” he asked the women gathered before him. And though there were murmurs of assent and nodding of heads, no one was truly ready.

September 21, 1910   
London, England

The motor car rumbled to a halt in front of 12 Everdeen Road, a puff of dust rising in the wake of the car’s braking. Henry Morgan turned to his shaking wife, grinning widely, “That was quite the ride,” he noted, breaking into hearty laughter at his wife’s pale, gaunt face.

With her lips pursed tightly, clutching her purse against her chest, Amelia Morgan stepped shakily from the car, nearly crushing the hand of the taxi driver as he assisted her out.

The driver handed Emily out onto the street, smiling at her quiet words of thanks. Her parents  
stood on the damp street, eyeing the neighborhood and taking in the edifice before them.

 

“It doesn’t seem too shabby,” her mother sniffed distastefully.

“I should think not after the amount of money they’ve received,” her husband answered.

Climbing the stairs to the door, her father rapped sharply on the door. 

“Damn English. No electricity. What century are we living in?” he bellowed, turning towards his wife.

“Henry, dear, they’re known for their civility not for being the most forward thinking people.”

The door swung open on Mrs. Morgan’s words and Emily cringed, certain the butler had heard her parents scathing remarks by the look of grim irritation on his features.

“Yes, hello there my good man, I am Colonel Henry Morgan and we have an appointment with Mrs. Catherine Sta–,” he began before Amelia nudged him surreptitiously, “With the Dowager Lady Northland.”

“Yes, sir. If you’d kindly step inside I’ll have her ladyship rung for,” he said, holding the door and standing to the side as Henry and Amelia swept into the house. Emily followed wearily behind, jumping slightly as the heavy door shut behind her.

“It’s quite dark in here,” Amelia whispered to her husband, barely containing her disdain.

“It’s rather prehistoric if you ask me.”

She could feel the eyes of the butler upon her, could feel him taking his measure of her, assessing whether she was as opinionated as her parents.

“But no one did ask you, Papa. In fact, I think it adds quite a bit of dignity, intrigue even,” Emily interrupted, handing her traveling coat and hat to the young man who had appeared wordlessly in the hall.

Emily didn’t notice the smile of the butler as he led the Morgans to the sitting room.


	4. Chapter 4

The quiet tick tocking of the clock turned seconds into hours as Emily twisted her hands upon her lap. The waiting seemed interminable even though they’d only just taken their seats.

On the nearby settee her parents made a whispered analysis of every furnishing, rug, and decoration in the room while the housekeeper, Mrs. Worth, readied tea and pretended to ignore the opinions being offered behind her.

The doorknob twisted and the butler, Mr. Pearce, entered as Emily and her parents rose.

“Colonel and Mrs. Morgan, Miss Morgan, may I present Lady Northland. Lady Northland, Colonel and Mrs. Morgan and Miss Emily Morgan.”

Catherine had but a moment to take in her future daughter in law before her father stepped in front of her, blocking her line of vision with his substantial girth.

“I was under the impression that you were now the Dowager Lady of Northland,” he said, eyeing the slight woman before him as if she were a pretty vase or piece of decor.

“Quite right, Colonel. When your daughter and my son are wed, I will assume the title of Dowager Lady. Your knowledge of English titles is most impressive, sir.”

“My wife was born here. Her father was a marquis,” he said as though he had married Queen Victoria herself. 

“Then you know, of course, that your daughter will be addressed as Lady Emily, assuming the title Lady Northland upon her marriage.

He nodded shortly,”I believe that was the arrangement, yes.”

Emily stood as still as a statue as her father and future mother in law eyed each other, both unrelenting, both unwilling to be the first to look away. It was only when her mouth coughed softly that her father seemed to remember his wife and daughter.

“This is my wife, Amelia,” he said finally as the small woman beside him held out her hand.

“A pleasure, Mrs. Morgan. Your father was the Marquess of Wrentham, was he not?”

“The Marquess of Ashford,” Amelia replied and Emily felt her mother’s anger at having been associated with the Wrentham name. The story she’d heard long ago was that her mother had been snubbed by the Marquesses’ son for being “beneath him.” Surely Lady Northland was aware of this.

“Ah, yes, my apologies. All these old family names, one grows so confused. And it’s your brother who is the Marquess now?”

 

“Cousin. My father had no sons.”

Emily gave a small smile. Lady Northland clearly knew exactly what she was doing.

“And have you been home to Griffin Manor recently?”

“Not since my marriage, no.”

“Pity, I’ve heard the gardens are marvelous.”

“Ah, yes, I’m sure they are. Perhaps during our visit we might make the trip to the Manor,” Henry interjected, sensing the discord between the women, “Now, I believe the person you are most interested in meeting is our daughter, Emily.”

Catherine took in the young woman before her; dark hair and eyes, fashionable without being ostentatious, slender with a healthy bloom to her cheeks.

“Lady Emily, welcome to London. We are delighted to have you with us.”

“Thank you, Lady Northland. You have a beautiful home. We are most appreciative of your hospitality.”

“Now where is the bridegroom? He hasn’t reconsidered without even seeing her, has he?” Henry chortled.

Emily’s cheeks burned. Her parents would wind up ruining this match if they continued to behave in such a manner.

“Unfortunately Lord Northland was called away early this morning. There was a business matter which required his immediate attention. He sends his apologies for not being here to welcome you himself but looks forward to welcoming you to Winterfell Hall tomorrow.”

“What business matter could possibly be more important than the one we’re here to conclude?” Henry sputtered, “I have half a mind to take my daughter and her dow–”

“Yes, Papa. It is unfortunate that Lord Northland is unable to join us at this time but he is a busy man with a large estate to manage so we must endeavor to be understanding of matters beyond his control that may arise. We are most anxious to see Winterfell Hall. I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about its beauty. I’m certain Lord Northland will be an excellent host when we finally have the chance to meet.”

A long pause filled the silence as her parents and Lady Northland looked at her.

“Despite my son’s urgent business, both of my daughters are here so you will have a chance to meet them, Lady Emily. Now it would seem that you are all quite fatigued from your journey so I wonder if you would like to be shown to your rooms where you can rest and refresh yourselves before dinner?”

“A bath would be divine. I’m feeling rather dusty from the road,” Amelia commented, latching onto her husband’s arm as if she had suddenly remembered her exhaustion.

“Some tea and cakes, as well. It’s been hours since we last ate on board the ship and I’m famished,” Henry added, placing a hand on his rotund waist.

Catherine’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, “Of course. Mrs. Worth, would you see to it that Mrs. Morgan has a bath readied for her and would you ask cook to have some tea and cakes sent to Mr. Morgan’s room?”

Mrs. Worth nodded, giving Emily a small smile as she left.

“Lady Emily? Is there anything you require? A bath? Some tea? Fresh bouquets of hothouse flowers in every corner of the room?” Catherine thought to herself then immediately felt a twinge of guilt. Her future daughter in law had been most polite and well mannered. A stark contrast to her boorish parents.

“No, thank you, Lady Northland. A chance to rest and change before meeting your daughters would be lovely.”

Later, in her well appointed room, Emily lay on the bed staring at the ceiling. Perhaps they had manufactured a false situation so he could get out of meeting her. What if he had refused to marry her and his mother was still attempting to convince him he must? Every single possibility went through her mind until she was crying silent tears and wishing she would wake up back in her own bed in Newport.

******

He’d thought there could be no worse pain than that of losing his father. He had been wrong. Failing him, even in death, was much, much worse. He had failed in his duties as lord to his tenants and in his duty to his family. His mother was certain to be furious and he could only imagine what the Morgans thought. If he had been stood up for two days, he would most certainly be taking his offer back across the Atlantic. By God they could not afford to lose this offer.

Winterfell Hall was everything Emily had been promised. Beautiful and stately with the most magnificent gardens and grounds. They’d returned from London early Friday morning as planned, her parents complaints still ringing in her ears. The train was too slow, too crowded. The countryside was dirty, the car ride too jostling. Her mother’s nerves were shaken. Her father complained of the food, the misty, gray weather, and above all, the insult of being slighted by Lord Northland for going on three days. Her mother in law to be avoided their company as much as she politely could and Lord Northland’s sisters and brother had followed their mother on this.

Bored, lonely, and practically being strangled by her parents endless list of grievances, she snuck away on Saturday afternoon following tea. Making her way through the gardens, she followed the pathways that led through twists and turns, further away from the estate and closer to the wide open lawn and woods beyond. As soon as she found herself on the lawn she could feel her step lightening, could almost breathe normally once more, could imagine that things were not as bad as they seemed at the moment.

The woods she had seen were actually not much more than a stretch of trees that hid a large, grassy hill, that led somewhere; the village she learned when she reached the crest of the hill. Pausing for a moment, she took in the small buildings and houses that lay just beyond. “Pretty,” she had said when they’d driven through yesterday on their way to Winterfell. “Rural,” her mother had commented as though she herself had not grown up in country manor with a village similar to this one.

A bark sounded to her left and she turned in its direction. Another bark, then another, and suddenly a dog, coat shiny and brown crested the hill and began to run in her direction. Standing stock still she waited to be jumped open or knocked down but the dog stilled right before it could reach her, nuzzling her hand with its wet nose, licking her fingertips with its rough tongue.

“Hello there,” Emily greeted, crouching down to stroke the downy soft fur, “Wherever did you come from?”

“Grey! Greywind! Come, boy!” a male voice shouted.

Emily stood, dog still at her side as the man came up the hill a moment later.

“There you are,” he said, approaching the dog, leash in hand, face smudged with dirt, his white shirt covered with soot, shirt sleeves rolled back to reveal strong arms, hands covered with grit and grime. A villager? Or one of the tenants? “I’m sorry if he scared you. I let him run freely through these hills. We’re usually here on our own.”

Emily’s eyes met his. They were blue, startling so, and as clear and as deep as a pool.

“It’s…All’s well. We were just becoming acquainted. Isn’t that right?” she asked, patting the dog’s head again.

He smiled, “Do you like dogs then?”

“Very much. This one…Grey? Is that what you said his name is?”

“Short for Greywind.”

“He’s beautiful. The softest, glossiest coat. It…”

He looked up at the change in her voice. “It what?”

“I’m sorry. It reminds me of my own dog.”

“What is his name?”

“Her name is Persephone.”

His lips tilted up in a smile. The name of a Greek goddess.

“And where is Persephone now?”

“At home,” she said softly.

“And you are headed there?”

“No, to the village.”

“The village?” he asked, surprised by this bit of news. He had never seen her in the village before.

“Yes, I’m visiting friends,” she lied.

Emily instantly regretted her answer. Why had she said the village of all places? Whether he was a villager or a tenant farmer out for a walk he would eventually find out that she was not a visitor there but at Winterfell. 

“Ah, I see. Well, I won’t keep you from your walk then. It looks like rain may be on its way.”

“Sir, I’m sorry if this is forward but might I inquire if you are well?”

Her question caught him off guard and he looked up at her from where he had been patting Grey.

“Quite well. Why would you–?” he began and she nodded towards his shabby appearance, “Oh. Yes, I am fine. There was a fire, well, several fires actually on one of the farms nearby. We’ve been fighting them for the last few days.”

“We?”

“Myself, other men from the village and farms.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“Several men were burned quite badly. We lost two barns and over an acre of land, seven horses, 3 cows, and there is a flock of lambs who appear to have disappeared completely.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“It is a grave loss.”

“Is there anything I might do to help?”

“The families who lost their farms and animals will need help. There’s a great deal of clean up to be done. I thought you said you were only visiting.”

“I am but I’m certain my family will want to help once they hear about this.”

Nodding, he smiled, “Well, I’m sure they’ll be appreciative of anyone’s kindness. Now, I have to finish this one’s walk and I believe you said you were headed to the village.”

“What? Oh yes, the village, of course. How silly of me.”

She was blathering like an imbecile. How could a man’s smile make her completely forget her thoughts?

“Good day then, miss.”

“Goodbye.”

He watched her make her way down the hill, didn’t fail to notice the way she looked back over her shoulder or her wave to him. He waited until she was small, a tiny dot on the landscape before whistling twice to Grey.

“Come on, boy. Let’s head home.”

*****

She’d walked nearly all the way to the village before turning back for Winterfell. The rain which had started as a light mist began to fall in earnest at the top of the hill and she was soaked and shaking when she stepped into the entryway.

“Wherever have you been?” her mother asked, “Your father was about to ring the constable!”

“I’m fine, Mama. I walked farther than I thought and it began to rain on my way back.”

“Well you look a fright. Lord Northland returned while you were gallivanting about. He’ll be joining us for dinner. You’d best hurry if you intend to look presentable. Lord knows the man has more than slighted us these past days. Why are you just standing there dripping, girl? Go. You,” Amelia said pointing to one of the nearby maids, “Fetch some water for her ladyship and have some tea sent up. She’s soaked through. And you there, clean up this water at once.”

“Ma’am,” the maids curtsied, nearly tripping over each other in their rush.

The evening clothes she had selected earlier in the day were laying on the bed and she slipped off her sodden shoes as Mary, one of the maids who was serving as her lady’s maid for the time being bustled into the room.

“Come along, Lady Emily, you cannot be late for dinner,” she said, pointing her towards the bathroom, “Let’s get you warmed up.”

“Stop fidgeting with your tie, Robert,” Catherine ordered, watching her son twist the black fabric for the fifth time in as many minutes.

She had been waiting for him when he returned and they’d battled in hushed whispers in his study. She reprimanded him for being gone so long and remiss in his attentions to his guests. He reminded her of his duty to the estate and his father’s good name. It was only when Catherine’s sharp hearing thought she caught the sound of someone near the door that they had concluded their discussion.

Now, minutes away from meeting his fiancé and his future in laws who Sarah had said were insufferable and he couldn’t manage to get his tie to cooperate.

He was attempting to get it to lay properly once more as Pearce announced the Morgans. Turning to look up the stairwell he attempted to mask his dismay. The father was huge, barrel chested with a giant stomach stretching his vest across his middle. Legs like ham hocks were squeezed into tuxedo pants. The woman beside him was dwarfed by him, a gaunt, pale face, a mirthless smile, eyes that darted about mentally critiquing everything they landed upon. And the dress was the most garish monstrosity he’d ever laid eyes upon. Heaven help him. Women took after their mothers. Hadn’t someone told him that once?

“Lady Emily Morgan,” Pearce boomed and Robert fought hard not to close his eyes. Instead he focused on the hem of her gown, the tiny pink slippers which peeked out from beneath it as she moved. His eyes traveled over her slender frame, over the pretty gown she wore; a style neither ostentatious or too prim but completely appropriate for a young woman on the cusp of marriage. Her dark hair was worn in a popular Gibson tuck, a tiny headband of pearls wreathing her head. Their eyes locked and he heard her small gasp, “It’s you.”

And then everyone was looking between them, confusion apparent as they tried to make sense of what was happening.


	5. Chapter 5

“Are you always in the habit of lying to people you’ve just met,” Rob asked tightly, nearly squeezing the arm that was linked through his.

There’d been several moments of confusion when she blurted out that she had seen him before and after another few moments of explanation, they’d been called into dinner. Now, escorting her into the dining room, Emily could feel how angry he was.

“I didn’t know who you were and had no way of knowing since we were meant to meet three days ago but you have been otherwise occupied, Lord Northland.”

“I have been attending to matters of the estate.”

“And do all lords find themselves among the fracas of their tenants or is this is a special talent of yours?”

“It is my responsibility to help whenever and wherever I can.”

“It’s just not your responsibility to welcome guests into your home,” she whispered so softly he felt as if he’d been caught beneath the lash of a whip.

“I am most sorry I was not in London to welcome you or at home here to greet you either.

She allowed him to escort her to her chair where she angrily removed her arm from his.

“Then perhaps instead of reprimanding me for failing to divulge my identity to a strange man you might be grateful that my father didn’t take me straight back to America.”

He seethed through dinner. Eyes dark with irritation, he was abrupt and brusque when addressed and finally his mother and sisters stopped asking questions. 

For all her efforts, Catherine was unable to engage their guests in a conversation that didn’t begin with complaints or wasn’t about the “unmodern” and “archaic” English way of life. If she could have the wedding ceremony performed now she would, just to be rid of these despicable people.

“Lady Sarah, I’ve heard you play the piano quite beautifully,” Emily commented the moment her mother’s third complaint about the chill in the room fell on deaf ears.

Sarah looked up from her meal, more than a little surprised to have been addressed. Smiling kindly, Emily silently willed her to speak.

“Oh, yes. Well, I play. I’m not sure how beautiful it is.”

“Was that you I heard this afternoon?”

Sarah nodded.

“Well you sounded marvelous. Perhaps you could teach me sometime? I’ve always wanted to learn.”

“I’d…yes, of course. I’d like that very much.”

Rob glanced up at his sister who was blushing under the attention. Sarah was an excellent and talented pianist and he knew the praise was genuinely appreciated.

“And Lady Anna, I saw you in the stables yesterday with the horses. You’re really very good with them. Mr. Collins told me you have an uncanny knack for getting them to listen. Do you think you might help me find a horse that’s suitable for riding?” Emily asked, gaze turning to the young woman beside her.

“Riding? For heaven’s sake, Emily,no one is expecting you to ride out on a hunt,” her mother interjected.

Anna’s eyes met Emily’s. “Of course I can help you select a horse. I have just the one in mind.”

Catherine and Rob exchanged a glance. In three days time Emily had figured out more about his sisters than most people did after weeks with them. He’d had friends come home from Oxford with him who couldn’t even remember their names let alone which of them liked what past time.

“Excellent. Do you think you might meet me tomorrow morning? I’d like to ride out and see the village and the farms.”

“Absolutely not.” Rob said, laying down his fork.

All eyes turned to him and Emily met his gaze with a raised eyebrow.

“Why ever not, Lord Northland? I’ll take one of the grooms with me. I’d like to see more of the place that’s to become my home.”

“If anyone will be taking you riding, it’s me,” he said after a minute and Catherine covered her smile with her napkin.

“I imagined you would be otherwise occupied,” Emily said, dark eyes flashing.

She was not going to let him forget his rudeness any time soon, he thought. And that bothered him for reasons he could not explain.

“I will be busy, Lady Emily. Busy escorting my fiancee around Winterfell. The villagers and tenants will expect to be meeting the future Lady Northland. I don’t see any reason why it should be delayed any longer.”

“But the wedding,” Emily’s mother protested somewhat weakly.

“Don’t you agree, Mother?” Rob asked, attention turned back to his mother who was watching this interaction with rapt fascination.

“Hmm? Oh yes, of course. Of course you should accompany Lady Emily for a tour. Everyone has been looking forward to meeting you, my dear.”

Emily eyed her fiance. He wanted to be with her. It felt so strange to think that about a man she hardly knew. He was practically glaring at her, a completely different set to his jaw than he’d had earlier in the woods. Somehow the firm set of his jaw and the midnight blue of his eyes made him even more attractive.

“That sounds lovely,” she agreed, smiling far more brightly than necessary, “Lady Anna, you’ll help me pick a horse before we go, then.”

Anna looked to her brother who nodded his assent.

“And now that’s been sorted, I would suggest we meet after dinner, Lord Northland, Dowager Lady Northland,” Henry Morgan said, emphasizing Catherine’s title a little too arrogantly for Rob’s liking.

“Sir, I don’t think–” he began as his mother placed a gentle hand on his arm.

“That would be fine, Mr. Morgan. Perhaps Mrs. Morgan and the girls would like to retire to the drawing room? We can meet them after for some cards.” Catherine suggested.

There was a small gasp from Sarah, quickly turned into a cough, as Mrs. Morgan declined the invitation, insisting she was tired from the day and in need of rest. It was an egregious error in protocol to return to one’s own room immediately following dinner.

“Yes, of course Mrs. Morgan, you must be quite fatigued. I’ll ring for Cecily to ready your room,” Catherine said, eyeing her daughter sharply.

“Emily, you’ll see me to my room, of course,” her mother said, “I’m sure you’ll need to be rested for tomorrow.”

“Mama, it isn’t necessary–”

“Come, Emily,” she said, “Thank you for dinner Dowager Lady Northland, Lord Northland.”

Turning to go she cast a glance back over her shoulder at Emily who was making a weak attempt at a smile in the face of her mother’s incredible rudeness. Murmured exchanges of thanks took place before Mrs. Morgan swept her daughter from the room.

*****

The amber liquid swirled from side to side as Rob turned the glass of brandy in his hands.

Who was Emily Morgan? One minute she acquiesced so quickly to the commands of her parents and the next she was seemingly challenging him when he said he would ride out with her. She clearly paid attention to his sisters and had been forthcoming enough to ask them about their interests and yet, in the next turn, she was shy and silent in the face of her parents complaints and criticism. And yet, his mother insisted that she had stood up to them on more than one occasion in the last few days.

Mr. Morgan had insisted they move up the wedding date once more. Why? Was there something wrong with her? Was she hiding her true nature? Perhaps she was really more similar to her mother and father than she appeared. But something about that moment on the hill this afternoon had seemed too genuine to dismiss as an act.

His mother had said the decision to move the wedding closer was entirely up to him but he did, at the very least, need to give a sign of good faith, proving he intended to marry her.

“I’m taking her around the village and farms. Doesn’t that qualify as a show of good faith?” he’d protested.

“Yes, of course, but I think the Morgans are looking for something more…significant.”

“More significant? What could be more significant than introducing her around as the future Lady Northland?”

“This,” Catherine said quietly, sliding a small black pouch across the desk to her son.

Rob looked at the pouch and then up at his mother.

“Is this…”

“You know very well what it is. Just…just give it to her.”

“When I’m ready,” he said.

“Sooner rather than later, Rob. I’m beginning to fear the Morgans won’t last much longer. They’re far too anxious to have this business concluded and since they vocalize their distaste at every turn, I worry they’ll leave and we’ll…”

“Fall into ruin? Don’t worry, Mother. I have no intention of letting that happen.”

****

Anna and his bride to be were already waiting in the stables when he arrived. Nodding to Porter, the head groom, he strode across the wooden floor to where the ladies stood.

“Rob! I’ve chosen Penny for Em…Lady Emily to ride out on,” Anna said, stroking the horses nose gently.

“Penny is an excellent choice. Strong, nimble, and gentle. I think she and Lady Emily will make an excellent match.”

Anna blushed slightly beneath her brother’s praise, lifting her face to look at Emily who stood nearby, gloves in hand.

“Yes, Lady Anna, thank you. I will treat Penny carefully. I’m very grateful for your help.”

“And maybe later we can go out for a ride again? Just us girls? If you’re feeling up to it, of course. It’s just that Rob will show you all the boring places and I can show you the fun ones.”

Rob frowned, “I thought Mother and I told you no riding off to Towson’s pond by yourself?”

“You did! And I haven’t! Honest.”

“So what fun places do you propose to show Lady Emily?”

“There’s the copse of woods near Emery’s farm, the bridge and stream near the village, and that millinery shop in town that Sarah likes. You don’t intend to take her looking for hats, do you?”

Emily covered her mouth, laughing a little at the thought of this man, all broad shoulders and chiseled features standing in a shop while she selected a hat.

“No, indeed not.”

“Then you’ll come, of course. Right, Em..Lady Emily?”

“Yes, of course. I’d be delighted to see all your haunts, Lady Anna.”

The girl clapped in delight before standing on her tiptoes to give her brother a kiss and skipping back to the house.

“She’s…well, she seems quite taken with you,” he noted as the grooms led their horses out of the stable.

“She’s sweet.”

Rob laughed, “I’m not sure anyone has ever called Anna sweet before. Stubborn and headstrong definitely, but never sweet.”

“Perhaps if people stopped trying to turn her into something she is not and instead just let her be who she is, they might find that her stubbornness is just a mask for the sweet soul beneath.”

He was still staring at the back of her head when the groom assisted her onto Penny’s saddle.

“My lord?” his groom questioned when he still hadn’t moved after a moment.

“Yes? Oh, right, of course,” he said. How in the world had she so easily figured out Anna in only a few short days?

They rode out towards the village, stopping in to the parish church, Saint George’s, and had been

invited for a cup of tea with the vicar who would undoubtedly marry them. There was a walk past the millinery shop Anna had mentioned and Rob introduced her politely to several people he was acquainted with. They bumped into Mrs. Mills, the cook at Winterfell, on her way to the market and it wasn’t long before passers by began to whisper among themselves about the future Lady Northland.

“It’s a charming village,” she commented to him once they were back upon their horses.

“Quite. Some truly genuine and kind people live and work there. Would you care to stop for a visit at your family’s home?”

“No, thank you. I would not,” she replied tartly, giving Penny a light nudge in her sides to move ahead of him.

Evidently her white lie of yesterday would not be forgotten any time soon.

Aside from Rob’s occasional directives about where to turn or things to avoid along the path, they barely spoke, both too preoccupied in their own thoughts.

The first few farms they came upon appeared to be doing well. No sign of the fires that had destroyed other homes could be seen and she raised her hand, smiling and nodding in polite acknowledgement as farmers, their wives and children waved or called out to Rob in greeting.

He named each family as they rode past; Weathers, Perkins, Dawkins, Hawley, each with a crop of strapping boys and sweet looking girls. She nodded as he spoke, filling her in on the history of each family, taking in every small detail of their lives.

Rounding a small bend, she could smell the acrid smoke, taste its oakey residue on her tongue, and when a few white flakes dotted the green of her riding attire, it took a moment for her to realize it was ash and not snow.

Slowing as the damage came into view she fought back the tears pricking at her eyes.

It was a wasteland. Animals wandered aimlessly among the ruins of what had once been homes and barns, paddocks and pens. Crops lay scorched upon the ground, smoke still rising from what she presumed had once been corn stalks. Strips of cloth that had once been clothes or curtains were scattered among the burnt remains of the houses, some caught in the branches of nearby trees, others trampled in the mud and muck wrought by putting the fires out. Men, old and young stood bare chested in the fields, surveying the damage, talking quietly. The women, faces dirty with soot and grime, walked among the remains of their homes, scouring the wreckage for anything salvageable; a beloved teapot, clothes that had escaped the flames, family Bibles, a child’s favorite doll. There were no tears, only grim determination.

Above the braying and clucking of the animals, Emily could hear children; something that sounded like shouting, high pitched voices, and the cries of a baby. Where had all these people been sleeping? And what exactly had Lord Northland been doing these last days? The fires might have ended but there was nothing in the way of help anywhere for these people.

“You look grim,” he noted, assisting her from her horse.

“Whatever have you been doing here?” she whispered.

“Putting out fires, getting animals and children out of harms way,” he replied tartly.

“I mean now that the fires are out. Where are these people sleeping? What are they wearing? Who’s looking after the children? Has a doctor looked at any of them to assess injuries? I thought you said you were helping.”

“I AM helping,” he hissed, taking her by the elbow more forcefully than he intended.

“It doesn’t look to me like you’re doing much of anything.”

They glared at each other, his grip tightening, her eyes flashing with anger.

“Pardon me, my lord, but Jacobs and I were wondering if we might have a word?” a man’s voice interrupted and they turned towards an older man, shirt dirty but buttoned, cap in his hand.

“Yes, of course, Evers. Just a moment, please.”

He turned back to Emily, “See that tree there? Go, sit, and don’t move until I return.”

“Like hell I will,” she said, wrenching from his grip and turning to the farmer, “Mr. Evers? Mr. Evers?”

“Yes, miss?”

“Could you tell me how I might be of assistance to all of you? “

“I’m not sure I understa–” Evers began.

“My apologies, Evers. Miss Morgan is new to Winterfell. You’ll have to forgive her impertinence.”

Evers eyes widened. This was the young lord’s bride to be, the future lady herself.

“No, Mr. Evers. I merely wish to be of some assistance. Perhaps I could help with rounding up the animals? Or maybe the ladies need some help with locating items of use? Or I could help with the children?”

Evers had somehow, mercifully, caught the eye of his wife who had been watching the interaction unfold in bemused silence.

“You come right along with me, Miss Morgan,” she said, “I know there’s at least one babe who needs to be held and there’s a dozen young ones who need an eye out for them.”

Emily nodded gratefully, shooting a dark glance at Rob before following behind the other woman. 

Evers was suddenly deep in thrall to the cap in his hand, turning it over and over as Rob watched the women depart. Shaking his head he turned back to his tenant.

“What is it that you and Jacobs wished to speak with me about?”

*******

Rob was going to throttle her. She’d taken his leaving her for his discussion as a sign to do as she pleased.

Oh, she’d held a few babies all right and seen to it that a few of the younger ones had eaten some of the apples and porridge she’d found nearby. They all had clean hands and faces for the first time in days and she’d used her hands to finger comb braids back into some semblance of order. It was only when he’d found her attempting to climb a tree after a pack of young lads that his patience had snapped.

“What on Earth do you think you’re doing?” he’d asked just as soon as she’d jumped from the branch where she sat and into his waiting arms.

“Playing. These children need something to keep their minds off of the fire and since they aren’t old enough to help, I decided a game was in order.”

“Climbing trees? Why not play something more docile? And something that keeps your feet on the ground?”

“Because they are children, Ro—Lord Northland and children need to take the air and imagine they’re pirates hunting treasure or Robin Hood and his merry men sweeping in to save the day.”

“These children don’t have time for such fanciful games. They have farm chores and household chores and responsibilities.”

“Of course they do. But right now they have neither homes nor farms and aside from finding what food they can for their animals there isn’t much for them to do.”

Rob pressed a hand to his forehead.

“Fine. If you must play King Arthur and Knights of the round table at least keep your feet on the ground.”

Later while he had been surveying further damage she’d come rushing across the yard, hat long since forgotten, her riding jacket nowhere to be found, her long hair spilling out of her chignon.

“I must speak with you now.”

“Can it wait, Miss Morgan?”

“No, it cannot. It is a matter of great urgency, Lord Northland.”

Sighing he waved at the two men he’d been speaking with who moved away to continue the discussion.

“How might I be of service, Lady Emily?”

“Do you know where these people, these children have been sleeping?”

“I would imagine they’ve found shelter with the other families in the area.”

“Barns. They’ve been sleeping in barns. No one has enough space to accommodate any extra bodies so aside from Mrs. Lamb and her newborn, all the rest are split between the Evers barn and the Wright barn down the road.”

“And what would you have me do, Miss Morgan?

Insist that families open their doors to additional people? Have the barns fitted to look like bedrooms? Perhaps I should build a house with my own hands?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what you should do. But do something. Do whatever it takes to see that these children aren’t shivering in the hay stacks tonight.”

She stormed away, her boots leaving indents in her wake, a thoroughly frustrated Rob staring at her back.

Her hat had been trampled by a herd of grazing sheep and she’d left her jacket with Mrs. Evers, insisting that it be used for keeping one of the children warm in the barn. She’d given up on keeping her hair pinned back, letting it flow loose instead. She had a smudge of dirt underneath her eye and her blouse was covered in dirty hand prints and mud. Truth be told she looked beautiful. And even though he wanted to shake her he couldn’t deny that she was lovely like this.

“I can only imagine what your mother is going to have to say when we arrive,” he commented as they rode along the path back towards the village.

Emily glanced down at her outfit, realizing for the first time she looked like a fright.

“I…it’s…”

He chuckled at her surprise.

“Did you truly not know how you looked?”

“Are you laughing at me, sir?”

“No. Not at all. I’m amazed you only just realized what state you were in.”

Haughtily turning her face away from him she nudged Penny into a quicker pace.

“Hold on there,” he said, coming up alongside her.

“I hardly think you wish to be seen with me looking the way I do,” she said.

“I never said that. I only said I was surprised that you hadn’t thought about your appearance before I mentioned it.”

“I am not some vain, haughty princess who only thinks about the way she looks.”

She was glaring at him again and he was beginning to grow weary of seeing her angry with him.

“Em—Miss Morgan, I never meant to imply that you were. I was…I am quite impressed with how much work you did today.”

His voice was much gentler than it had been earlier and he was actually smiling at her.

“Oh. Well, I—. Thank you. For letting me come along with you. And for letting me help.”

“Do you think we might start over from the beginning?” he asked, meeting her eyes as she blushed.

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

“I am very sorry I wasn’t in London to meet you.”

“And I’m sorry for suggesting it was an intentional snub. I’m not…well, this is…this is my first engagement and I’m not familiar with all your rules and customs and I’m terribly nervous and I was worried you’d be old and terrifically bald and fat and then I saw you and you most certainly are not any of those things..”

Clapping a hand over her mouth, she blushed straight to the roots of her hair, looking away from him.

“Please forgive me Lord Northland, I didn’t mean to suggest…I’m awfully forward when I’m nervous and I—.”

“Emily,” he said and she glanced up at him quickly, the use of her Christian name a total surprise, “Miss Morgan, you are not the only one who was worried.”

I’m not?”

“No,” he said, reaching for her hand and squeezing gently, “Who wouldn’t be anxious to meet their future spouse without ever having seen them?”

“And…well, do I satisfy your idea of what a bride should be?”

“Quite,” he agreed, tilting her chin up slightly so she was forced to look at him, “I think you are quite remarkable.”

Smiling she took her hand from his. Her skin tingled where he’d touched her and she wanted nothing more than to allow him to hold it once more but it was improper. Goodness only knew what people would think if they came upon the two of them looking as they did while holding hands.

They rode the rest of the way back to the estate in companionable silence, Emily sneaking a peek at him every so often, Rob hiding his glances under the guise of checking that she was still nearby.

“I’ll see if we can sneak in through the kitchens and avoid our mothers,” he said when they’d returned to the grounds of Winterfell.

“Thank you,” she said, letting him help her off of Penny.

They stood there holding each other a moment longer than necessary, both looking at the other, neither daring to speak.

“My lord,” one of the butlers rushed out, breaking them apart, “There is a guest here to see you.”

“Yes, Gains, thank you. I’ll be along shortly.”

Giving him a small curtsy, she walked towards the stables behind the grooms who had come for their horses.

“Where are you going?” he called out.

“To hide until I know my mother retires for her afternoon rest.”

“But the kitchens…”

“You go welcome your guest. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Nodding at her he gave a stiff little bow, “I shall see you for dinner then?”

“Yes, of course.”

He watched her form recede, saw her ask the groom a question, smiled when she turned around and seeing him raised her hand in a small wave.

Maybe marrying her would be easier than he’d imagined.


	6. Chapter 6

He was wrong. If the last few days were any indication, being married to her would have him constantly wondering what she was up to.

She’d disappeared with Anna early the next morning and when they’d returned, it was to whispered conversations over tea. The day after both Sarah and Anna were missing from breakfast and his mother mentioned something about a trip to buy new hats since Emily had lost her riding hat the other day.

On his afternoon stroll with Grey he caught sight of Mrs. Evers leading a ragtag band of children into the village. Assuming they must be heading there for supplies of one kind or another he didn’t think much of it until he saw a cart rattling behind them carrying what looked like pieces of furniture. Intrigued he followed behind the procession, watching Mrs. Evers corral some of the younger boys who were doing their best to wreak havoc as they went. Eventually they reached the large hall his father had built to accommodate the spring festival the village held each year.

It wasn’t more than one long room, empty during the period between fairs and then converted into a space for visitors to peruse the wares of different craftsmen and women. Now it seemed that it had become a makeshift school? No. That didn’t seem right based on the amount of activity. A hospital of some sort? It struck him the moment a rocking chair was lifted from the cart. Housing. It was being used to house the families affected by the fire.

Making his way through the small crowd gathered around the cart and just outside the door, he nodded his greetings and stepped inside.

A few cots had been set up in opposing corners of the hall and a gentleman he recognized as the grocer was hanging sheets, cordoning off areas meant to provide families with a bit of privacy. Some of the children he’d seen with Mrs. Evers were playing quietly at a makeshift table of 2 boards on top of 2 barrels. Someone had provided some dolls and soldiers as well as a basket of books. Marbles rattled across the table and a little girl bent over a spinning top, watching it wriggle its way across the table. And there, at the end of the hall deep in conversation with Mrs. Evers was his fiancée, his sisters standing sentry on either side of her.

“M’lord, this is really most generous of you,” Jacobs said from his side.

Rob nodded as Evers stepped forward, doffing his cap, “This is most kind of you, my lord. It means a great deal to the families.”

He had no idea what they were talking about but he intended to get to the bottom of it.

“You are most welcome but if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I need to speak with Lady Emily and my sisters.”

The men nodded as he walked by and several women called out their thanks, curtseying as he went. The noise had alerted the women at the center of it all to his arrival and Sarah, Anna, and Mrs. Evers fell back slightly, noticing the look upon Rob’s face.

“Lord Northland,” Emily greeted pleasantly, “What do you think?” she asked, gesturing around the room with her hand. “I know it doesn’t look like much now but once Mr. Miller finishes with the partitions and we bring in some furniture, I do believe it will look much more like home.”

“Might I have a word with you, Lady Emily?” he asked with more calm than he felt.

“I don’t think that’s…”

“Excuse us for a minute, Mrs. Evers, ladies,” he said, taking Emily by the elbow and leading her behind a newly hung curtain.

“You are being unbearably rude,” she said, crossing her arms.

“And you are being unbearably sneaky,” he retorted, standing no more than 2 inches from her.

He towered above her by easily six or seven inches but she stepped in closer, her toes nearly touching his and stared right back up at him.

“I am not being sneaky. I told you a better solution was needed than allowing those families to stay in the barn. When Anna showed me this place on our walk the other day and explained its use, I realized it would make excellent temporary housing.”

“I can see that. What I’d like to know is how you managed to gain entrance to the property?”

“Quite easily. Sarah told me the vicar was in charge of the keys to the property. I simply went to him, explained the situation, and he gave me the keys.”

“Really? That easily? Reverend Ames has known my family for over a generation. He married my parents and buried my father. I find it very hard to believe that he would simply up and give you the keys to this property without conferring with me.”

“Whyever not, Lord Northland? I am soon to be the lady of the estate, am I not?”

Rob shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer before releasing an aggrieved sigh, “Yes, of course. But merely because we are meant to be married would not be reason enough for him to give you the keys.”

Sheepishly she looked away for a moment, “I may have given him a letter,” she mumbled, practically whispering now.

“A letter? What letter?”

“I might have used the letter you sent me to craft another in your penmanship and with your signature to give permission for the keys to be given to me,” she rushed out, “And Sarah and Anna may have snu…borrowed your seal to close the letter.”

She was staring up at him now, brown eyes wide, her lip caught between her bottom teeth and he was torn between wanting to kiss her and wanting to thrash her soundly.

“You did what?”

“I wrote a letter giving permission for the vicar to give me the keys and signed it and sealed it as you and I know that it was wrong and that you’re angry, well, furious by the looks of it, but I did it because something needed to be done and this place was sitting here empty and I know you would have come up with the idea eventually so I just pretended you had. Your tenants admire and trust you and I wanted them to know they had put their faith in the right man.”

He did kiss her then, a soft press of his lips against her own, hardly anything really given the place they were in but damned if he wasn’t entirely charmed by her desire to help him. When he stepped back her eyes were still shut tight and her cheeks were tinged the faintest pink so he kissed her a second time, still gently, still holding her arm in one hand. She staggered back slightly when he released her from his hold.

“Whatever did you do that for?” she asked.

“The first time because I wanted to, the second because you looked so beautiful that you needed to be kissed again, and this time for doing all of this for me,” he said, before he pulled her close again and brought his mouth to hers once more.

This kiss was unlike the two before it. His mouth was hard on hers and he teased her lower lip until she parted her mouth for him, allowing his tongue to plunder and sweep and delve, drawing the smallest whimper from her throat. He didn’t let go of her when he pulled away and she buried her face in the front of his shirt whispering something he didn’t quite catch.

“What was that?”

“You’re not angry with me, then?”

“Oh no, I’m still quite upset with you, Miss Morgan,” he said, tilting her chin up so she was forced to look at him.

“But you kissed me.”

“Because if the last few days have been any indication, I imagine I will be kissing you while angry about some scheme of yours quite frequently.”

“I am sorry that I didn’t tell you what I had planned and for falsifying the letter. I just wanted…I wanted to help you. I wanted to prove to you that I could be a good lady.”

“Is that what this is all about? You believing that I think you’re not worthy of my title?”

She nodded, “My father insists that marrying you is a higher position than I deserve but that it looks good for he and my mother.”

His jaw clenched at the mention of her boorish father.

“Then your father is wrong. You are every ounce the lady of Winterfell. All of this, what you’ve done for my…our people and for me, proves that.”

“But you’re still upset with me.”

“Less upset and more bothered that you felt you couldn’t come to me with your plan which I would have wholeheartedly endorsed.”

“But you’re so busy and you seemed preoccupied after your guest the other day and I didn’t want to give you one more thing to worry about.”

“It’s my job to worry, Emily. To worry about my family, the estate, our tenants, and yes, to even worry about you. If we’re to be married, you have to trust me to listen to your ideas and suggestions. We may not always agree but I promise I will always listen to what you have to say.”

“Then I will endeavor to do my best and keep no more secrets from you.”

“And you won’t involve Anna and Sarah in your plots?”

“And I won’t involve Anna and Sarah in my plots,” she said, extending her hand to him to shake.

“Thank you,” he said, brushing a kiss across her forehead, “Now, how might I help?”

*****

Emily, so focused on her plan, had spent the rest of the day in her own world. Her lips still tingled from where Rob had kissed her and her fingers ached to hold onto him once more. He’d stayed to help with the unloading of the cart and whenever she felt his eyes upon her she’d flush. When the last of the chairs had been set up he’d met her gaze across the room, breaking into a grin that left her breathless.

“Look at Rob’s smile,” Sarah said next to her.

“Hmm? What’s that?”

“My brother is smiling. Broadly. For the first time in many months. I think that may have something to do with you.”

Emily shrugged, “I think he’s just happy his tenants will be safe and warm now.”

“Yes, thanks to you.”

“It was all his idea. I just helped bring it to fruition.”

Sarah laughed, “I’m sure Rob would have come up with this plan eventually but I am grateful he had someone to give him a nudge in the right direction.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you. My brother is so like my father; honorable, kind, decent, and loving. But he’s also stubborn and difficult and he tends to search out his own counsel rather than asking for help. It’s good that he, like my father, has a partner who’s willing to nudge him out of his own mind.”

Emily was shaken by this comparison to her future mother in law. Catherine was formidable, serious, intelligent, and devoted to her children who she so clearly adored. It was unfamiliar to Emily to be in the presence of someone who loved her children in quite the ferocious way Catherine did.

“I’m not sure I can ever live up to the good your mother has done or that I can ever influence Ro—your brother in quite the same way she does.”

Smiling Sarah looked at this young woman about to become her sister, “I think my brother might disagree.”

Rob was headed towards them, grinning broadly, his shirt sleeves rolled back to his elbows. Shivering slightly she kept her eyes trained on his face but that only made her remember his kisses from earlier and she was already flushed and half breathless when he reached her.

“Are you all right?” he asked, a gentle touch to her elbow.

“Yes, quite. I just became a little dizzy.”

“You need to sit. Have you eaten? You look as though you could use some water,” he said, waving over one of the adolescent boys standing nearby.

“I’m fi—“she protested as he asked the boy to fetch some water and something for Lady Emily to eat.

“You’re shaking. I won’t allow you to put your health at risk, Emily. If this project of yours becomes too overwhelming I will put someone else in charge.”

“It’s not that,” she whispered, surveying the room to see who might be watching them.

“What is it that ails you then?”

“You,” she mumbled to the floor.

“Pardon?”

“You. You are what ails me, my lord.”

Frowning, his face grew grim.

“And what I have I done now?”

“You don’t need to be cross with me. It’s your own fault, really. If you hadn’t kissed me earlier I would be perfectly capable of carrying on with my work right now.”

Rob laughed, coming to kneel slightly before her.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been thinking about when I could kiss you again since this morning.”

“You…You have?”

“Yes. I don’t think I’ll be able to stop now that I’ve started,” he whispered, voice gravelly.

“Pardon me, my lord, my lady but I’ve brought some water and a bit of food for her ladyship,” the young man interrupted, placing his items upon the table with a small bow.

“I feel dreadful now. He rushed off to bring these back and I don’t need them.”

“You do. Sit and eat. We can’t have you fainting.”

“Then stop looking at me like that,” she murmured.

“Like what?” he asked softly, “Like I want to take you and kiss you?”

“Exactly.”

“Good. Because I’m going to.”

He pressed a kiss to her mouth, keeping it chastely brief, too brief for Emily’s liking. When had she become so interested in kissing him?

“Now, I must return to Winterfell to attend to some other estate business and I’ll leave you to yours. I’ll have Brown bring the car around for you, Sarah, and Anna before tea.”

“But there is still so much—“

“Before tea, Emily.”

Sighing, she nodded her head. She would endeavor to be obedient to his wishes. Particularly if it meant he would kiss her again.


	7. Chapter 7

Her mother took to her bed upon discovering Emily’s complete lack of decorum. Her father bellowed and barked, outraged that his daughter had spent her day working alongside the tenant farmers and their families.

“Is this some kind of test to see if my daughter is fit to become lady of this pile of rocks?” he’d shouted.

Emily, Sarah, and Anna had listened from the landing as her father had raged, hiding when the door to the study had slammed open.

“EMILY!” he’d shouted, windows rattling in their panes.

“Yes, Papa? Whatever is the matter?” she’d asked, emerging from the shadows and down the stairs.

“No more of this…this…this aid you’ve been providing. You are a lady and shall act like one.”

“But, Papa,” she’d begun.

“No buts, young lady. You will acquire the services of a lady’s maid and assist your mother with the planning of the wedding or so help me, I will take you straight back to Newport.”

He’d stormed away, muttering and mumbling under his breath about decorum and civility and the clear English disregard for all things proper.

Rob had emerged from the study a moment later, catching sight of her at the foot of the stairs.

“Help!” she mouthed.

His eyes twinkled when he saw her and he crossed the room towards her, taking her hands into his own.

“Just do these things for me and once he’s calmed down my mother will speak to him about the importance of the lady of Winterfell being involved in efforts such as these.”

“Are you actually suggesting that I just stop helping? I’ve made plans to accept donations and to help with a children’s nursery for the little ones so the parents might work on the houses and barns. There’s meals to be prepared and laundry to be done and someone needs to oversee all of it. How am I just supposed to stop now?”

“Sarah and Anna will help in your absence. Mother is prepared to send some of the staff here to assist as well. She’s going to pay a visit to Reverend Ames and see if he might suggest some ladies who would be willing to help.”

“But what will people think? That I don’t care? That I only swept in to save them but now that the hard work has begun I’m too delicate and posh to continue?”

She’d been distraught at the idea. All her hard work would be for nothing if the people believed that.

“Emily, no one will think any less of you. The girls will explain that there are wedding preparations to attend to and that you will return in a few days time.”

She’d acquiesced only once he’d promised to check in on the progress being made and report back to her.

She spent two long days with her mother and Catherine considering floral arrangements and menu options, talking through the ceremony with the vicar, and being fitted for the last of her wedding trousseau. She hardly saw Rob except at dinner and after when they’d all withdraw to the sitting room for cards or to hear Sarah play. Anytime they did have a moment alone he spent reassuring her that all was going well in the village. Sarah and Anna returned each afternoon with tales about the children, the villagers who came to help, and the donations they had received.

“There’s a rumor that the fire was intentionally set,” Sarah whispered on the third day while Anna did her best to distract Mrs. Morgan by chattering incessantly about what color dress she would wear to the wedding,

Emily set the embroidery she had been working on down between them, “What do you mean?”

“Well, I overheard Mr. Evers talking to Mr. Halliday, the butcher, and it seems that the tenants originally believed the fire was caused by a lantern that had been left unattended falling over in one of the barns.”

Emily nodded, a quick glance at the other side of the room confirmed her mother was still deep in conversation with Anna.

“But apparently another lantern was found just outside the ruins of a second barn and some are saying there was a torch with a cloth dipped in kerosene in the woods just beyond the Evers’ barn.”

“Does Lord…your brother know?”

Sarah nodded quickly, noticing the room had fallen quiet.

“Whatever are you two gossiping about over there?” Mrs. Morgan called out.

“Nothing, Mama, Sarah was just suggesting some hymns for the wedding.”

“Ah, excellent. Come sit over here with me, my dear. You and Anna are both far more interested in this wedding than the bride to be.”

Emily mumbled a small apology to Sarah who was now forced to endure her own turn listening to the details of the wedding.

Rob was noticeably absent from dinner and Emily took in the grim set of Catherine’s features as well as her distraction and immediately began to worry.

Both Catherine and Rob were gone at breakfast and with Sarah and Anna leaving shortly for the village and her mother and father still abed, she was left to occupy her own time. Leaving the estate was out of the question. She had interviews for a ladies maid and the milliner’s wife was coming out with a selection of hats for her to peruse not to mention that her father would likely drag her straight home if she dared to leave. Restless and anxious, she decided a walk in the gardens was safe. It was sunny and cloudless, she could see some of the gardeners at work, and it was all within the confines of the estate.

Strolling along the pathway she’d walked with Anna just the other day, she admired the beautiful trees and neatly sculpted bushes and the flowers that bloomed throughout. Nodding to several of the gardeners as she passed, she called out her praise for their good work. She and Anna hadn’t had a chance to venture far as they’d been summoned to tea so today she journeyed down a path to her right. She’d been told that eventually, all of the inner pathways led to the center of the gardens and all of the outer pathways led back to Winterfell. She’d heard the gardens were quite impressive but the actual scope of them was truly breathtaking.

Wandering along the twisted, turning, gravel road before her she breathed in the fresh air, let the sun warm her face and the solitude and quiet replenish her soul. The bark of a dog nearby broke the silence and a moment later, Grey rounded the bend, barking once in happiness before trotting up alongside her.

“Oh, hello there, handsome boy,” she greeted, bending slightly to pat behind his ears. He licked her hand affectionately as a voice called his name and he ran off towards it.

A moment later she walked into the center of the gardens, a small pond beneath a beautiful, old tree, resplendent with leaves of the deepest red. It’s trunk reminded her of the birch trees she’d seen once in Boston but the tree was gnarled and stooped, twisting and stopping every so often before branching off in another direction. And those leaves. They were like nothing she had ever seen before.

“Magnificent,” she breathed.

“It’s all right,” a boy’s voice said from beside her, “Not quite so spectacular when you see it all the time.”

She looked at him, tilted her head to the side, examining the tree, “Hmm…I imagine if I saw it all the time I might not find it so interesting either. However, since it’s my first time, it’s quite amazing. How old were you the first time you saw it?”

“Probably a baby. My father loved it here. It was his favorite spot for thinking.”

“But when is the first time you remember seeing if for yourself?”

He paused a moment, considering before looking at her, “I was five, playing hide and seek with Anna and Sarah. One minute they were right there beside me and the next they weren’t. I kept walking, thinking I could find my way back, only it was starting to grow dark and I couldn’t make out all the pathways as well as I could during the day. I stumbled in here, panicked and scared and when I looked up, the tree was swaying gently even though there wasn’t any breeze. It felt like it was soothing me, telling me everything would be all right. And the next thing I remember is my father running in, shouting my name, torch in hand. I’d known as soon as I’d seen the tree that he’d find me.”

“Not quite so boring now, is it?” she whispered.

He turned, smiling at her, “No, not now it isn’t. You’re Lady Emily, aren’t you?”

“And you must be Brandon.”

“Mother says I must call you sister now that you’re to be married to Rob.”

“Well, I say you should call me whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

“Do you mind if I call you Lady Emily for now?”

“Not at all. And what would you like me to call you?”

He shrugged, “Brandon, I suppose. Though everyone else calls me Bran.”

“Brandon it is then.”

They stared at the tree for another few minutes, Grey sniffing around their feet.

“May I ask you a question?” Brandon said.

“Of course.”

“Must you marry Rob?”

Emily paused a moment, “I think I must, yes. My parents are quite desirous of the union and I believe your mother is as well. And it’s our duty to obey our parents and do as they ask.”

“But you don’t even know him!”

“You’re right, we don’t know each other well but we have spent some time together these last days and it has given us a chance to learn more about each other.”

“But what if you get married and find out he has an extra toe or some other revolting feature?”

“Does he have an extra toe?” she asked, suppressing a smile.

“No, but if he did…what would you do then?”

“Adapt. Sometimes people don’t marry who they choose. They marry because their parents arrange it or because it’s the right thing to do or because there’s no other choice.”

“But I…I want Rob to be happy.”

Emily’s heart broke. It was clear Brandon adored his older brother.

“I promise that I will do everything I can to make sure he’s happy,” Emily said softly.

“You’ll even let him spend time with me?”

There it was. The heart of the matter.

“Brandon, Rob is your brother. I would never do anything to keep you from him.”

“You swear it?”

“I swear it in front of this favorite tree of your father’s,” Emily said solemnly.

The answer seemed to satisfy the boy who whistled for Grey.

“I heard what you did for the tenants and their families.”

“I just helped your brother do what he thought was best.”

Brandon grinned up at her, “He said you’d say that. But he told me it was all your idea, you just let him take credit for it.”

I’ll never tell,” she teased.

“You won’t tell my mother that I asked all those questions, will you?” he asked, suddenly pensive.

Emily shook her head, “I shall not.”

They talked as they walked back through the maze of paths and turns, Emily mostly listening as Brandon told her about his lessons, his favorite horse, and how he and Rob liked to hunt together. Grey followed behind, sniffing along the path and occasionally running up ahead of them. Stopping short as they reached a split, he gave a short bark and began to race forward just as Rob came into view.

“Hello there,” he called out, chuffing Grey behind the ears.

“Good afternoon, Lord Northland,” Emily returned, smiling brightly.

“Brandon, how are you?”

“Well. Lady Emily and I just had a chance to talk a bit.”

“Did you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We did, indeed. I heard about Emperor and how much Brandon enjoys studying history. He showed me a few paths that lead to other spots and we talked about how much he enjoys hunting.”

“He’s an excellent rider,” Rob commented.

“Not as good as you,” Brandon replied.

Rob ruffled the boy’s hair. “That’s only because you haven’t grown quite as tall as me yet. Now, Mother is looking for you.”

Brandon sighed heavily.

“None of that, now. She just wants to talk with you about your lessons.”

Groaning he headed back towards the house.

“I can’t say I blame him,” Emily said, “Being outside on a glorious day like this or inside talking about my lessons?”

“Why do I have the distinct impression that your poor tutors had their hands quite full with you?”

“Lord Northland, are you suggesting that I was anything less than a well behaved and attentive pupil?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

“I’m sure you were an abject terror,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms.

“Simply horrid,” she breathed out right before he sealed her mouth with a kiss.

“I came to tell you that you’re free to return to the village tomorrow,” he said, their foreheads pressed together.

“Am I?”

“Mother managed to convince your father that it would reflect badly on you if you weren’t seen offering aide to the families. And since you’ve been such a docile and well mannered bride to be, you’ve been released from further planning. With one exception; if there are pressing details to attend to, you will be expected to be present.”

“Thank you,” she sighed in relief.

“You are most welcome. Now, can I steal you away for a bit?”

“I’m afraid not. I have interviews with potential ladies maids.”

“Ah well, I can’t keep you from that important task.”

“Will you be joining us for dinner this evening?”

“I hope to.”

“Hope to? Does that mean there is still problems with the farms?”

“Don’t you worry about any of it. I’m taking care of it,” he assured her.

“And there’s truly nothing I can do?”

“Not a thing.”

“But you would tell me if there were? Because I only want to help you however I can, Ro-Lord Northland.”

“Emily?”

“Hmm?”

“Might you be persuaded to call me Rob when we are alone together?”

“Are you—that seems most improper.”

“When it’s just you and I it isn’t,” he said, his fingers brushing over the side of her cheek, “I already call you Emily when we’re alone.”

“I’ve noticed,” she said, blushing.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Yes. I’ll call you by your Christian name when we’re alone.”

“And what is my name, Emily?” he asked, stepping towards her, his large hands encircling her waist easily.

“Rob. Well, Robert, really. Which is a lovely name. Quite dignified and refined.”

“You are adorable when you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous. I just think you have a very fine name that suits you. I’m glad you’re a Robert and not an Arthur or a Percival. Such dreadful names.”

His face was half an inch from hers and there was his thumb again, running lazy circles over her cheek and he was staring at her with those big blue eyes, a grin closer to a smirk on his face.

It was indecent how distracting he was, how one look from him could make her putty in his hands.

“Emily, I’m going to kiss you now.”

She sighed, a soft, sweet sound that drove him insane with desire.

“I’d like that very much…Rob,” she managed, a smile playing on her lips.

He kissed her thoroughly then and suddenly it didn’t matter if he was Rob or Robert or Lord Northland, all that mattered was the way he held her and how she never wanted his kisses to end.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, blood

The hall was strangely quiet. Babies had been settled down for naps, Sarah had taken the little ones for a walk through the village and Anna and Brandon had gathered the boys who were too old for the nursery but too young to be of much assistance and taken them to a nearby stream to fish. The ladies from the village who’d prepared the midday meal had cleared out and aside from elderly Mrs. Miller who sat knitting in a chair by the door and Mr. Pence who’d come down with some horrible upper respiratory infection and was sleeping, she was entirely alone.

She began to sort through the donations that had backed up in the last few days, children’s clothing, adult clothing, shoes, toys and books, housewares. Everyday new things arrived and Emily, along with Sarah and Anna, did their best to see to it that everyone got something they needed. She was replenishing the shoes on the bottom of the makeshift shelves Rob had one of the villagers make when the clearing of a throat startled her.

“My apologies,” the man standing behind her said, “I was looking for Lady Emily?”

“You’ve found her,” she said, smoothing her skirt.

His clothes were too nice to be one of the farmers and she didn’t recognize him from the village.

“My name is Jaime Lannister. I’m a friend of Lord Northland’s. I’ve come with a donation and to see if there is anything I can do to be of assistance?”

“Well that’s very generous of you, Mr. Lannister. Do you need help unloading your donations? I can find one of the boys to—“

“No, no. I have a financial contribution to make,” he said, handing over a small bag.

Emily peered inside. “This is most generous, Mr. Lannister. I know Lord Northland will be most appreciative as will the tenants.”

He smiled at her, eyes wandering around the hall.

“This is quite the setup you have here.”

“It’s only temporary, of course, but it seems to be suiting the displaced families well enough for now.”

“I hear you’re the young lady behind all of this.”

She laughed, “Hardly. This was all his lordship’s idea. I just volunteer my time.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow, “I would think Lord Northland would want his fiancé to stay at Winterfell. I’m surprised he’s allowing you to do such…simple work.”

“It’s hardly simple, sir. There are four large families whose lives have been turned upside down as a result of the fires. Determining the needs of each family as well as offering help during the day so they might work on rebuilding requires a great deal of organization and planning.”

“I apologize, Lady Emily. I didn’t mean to suggest that you were not capable of managing such a project. I only meant to say that I’m surprised Northland allows his fiancé to mingle among the common folk.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed, “How did you say you knew Lord Northland again?”

“His father and mine were old acquaintances. We’ve known each other a long time.”

“Then you’d like to see him, I’d imagine? I’m sure he’ll want to thank you personally for this generous gift.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. I’m perfectly happy to leave this here with you.”

“No, no, come along with me. I’m fairly certain he’s meeting with Reverend Ames just around the bend. We’ll see if we can’t catch them.”

She was already out the door before Jamie could protest further.

She was a pretty little thing; all dewy skin and wide doe eyes, dark hair pulled back fashionably. Even in a simple white blouse and navy skirt she looked like the heiress it was rumored she was. Secrets like Lord Northland marrying an American heiress didn’t stay secret long among the ton. Yes, underneath all those clothes she was sure to have a sweet figure. He couldn’t understand why Rob let her out of his sight.

“Are you coming, Mr. Lannister?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Yes, right behind you, Lady Emily.”

Cecily had sent him out here to assess the soon to be Lady Northland. Word of her kindness to the Winterfell tenants had spread as had talk of her beauty and Northland’s great affection for her. His wife, shrewd and manipulative, had wanted to better understand the young woman marrying Northland.

“Perhaps she might be of use to us,” Cecily had said for the hundredth time that morning.

“And how might this little girl be of use to you, wife?”

Cecily had shrugged, “Arranged marriage to the morose and serious Northland, a mother in law who will continue to interfere as the lady of Winterfell, alone in a foreign country. I think she might find herself in need of friends.”

“What machinations are you devising?”

“None at all, husband. I merely wish to befriend the new Lady Northland during this tumultuous time of transition in her life.”

Now, here he was, following behind the young woman who would soon be the lady of all this countryside.

The door of the parsonage opened and the Reverend Ames stepped out, followed by Rob who was checking the time on his pocket watch.

“Good afternoon, Reverend!” Emily called out as the older man smiled in recognition, raising his hand in greeting.

Rob looked up at the sound of her voice, smiling brightly at the sight of her though his face quickly turned grim when he spotted her companion. With a quick farewell to the Reverend he came down the steps and through the gate into the lane, stopping before them.

“Good afternoon, Lord Northland,” Emily greeted, eyes searching his suddenly tense face.

“Lady Emily. I see you’ve brought a visitor.”

“Oh yes, this is your friend, Mr. Lannister. He came by with a most generous donation. I wanted you to be able to thank him personally.”

The two men eyed each other warily.

“Lannister, is it? Forgoing the title these days, Westeros? Or is this just an attempt to worm your way in with the unwitting Lady Emily?”

“Now, now, Northland. There’s no reason to be suspicious. I simply came to bring a donation and be on my way.”

“Then be on your way, already,” Rob snarled.

“Is that any way to treat a guest, Northland? Have you no manners at all? Really, Lady Emily, he’s behaving quite rudely for someone who should be showing a little more gratitude given his own inability to support his tenants.”

She felt Rob’s entire posture change; felt the way he stiffened and leaned forward like he was about to attack, felt his hands clench beside him, felt the anger radiating off him in waves.

“How dare you,” Rob growled.

“How does it feel to be the great savior, Lady Emily? It’s a shame our laws are what they are because as soon as your marriage is legal, it’s really you who should be rightful owner of Winterfell.”

Rob grabbed the man by the lapels of his jacket, “Get. Off. My. Property,” he ground out, shoving his adversary back.

A few people had gathered across the lane, whispered words being exchanged as they watched the two men stare each other down.

“Rob,” Emily whispered, her fingers light on his arm.

He shook her off, glaring at Jamie who adjusted his jacket and smoothed back his hair.

“If you ever find yourself in need of protection from this cretin, I hope you’ll think of me. Good day, Lady Emily.”

With that he turned on his heel and began to stroll back towards the center of the village, whistling as he went.

“What on Earth were you thinking?” Rob hissed, turning on her.

“What was I thinking? What were you thinking behaving like that?”

He gripped her arm tightly, half dragging her towards the vestibule of the church.

“You’re hurting me!” she protested as he nearly flung her into the space.

“Do you have ANY idea what you’ve done?” he whispered, voice like shards of ice.

“I haven’t DONE anything. A man who I’ve never met, never seen, never even heard of shows up with a donation. He insists he’s an old family friend. How would I know any differently?”

“He’s no friend of mine nor of my family’s. Must I worry now that you will allow any stranger to convince you of a friendship with my family?” he said, stalking up and down the floor.

“You are not making any sense. You’re angry and upset and not thinking clearly right now.”

“Oh, I’m thinking straight all right. My fiancée intends to embarrass me by traipsing my family’s rival about, accepting his generous donation and using his money to help the people of Winterfell.”

“Stop this. I have no intention of embarrassing you, Rob.”

“Don’t call me that,” he growled, “You don’t get to stand there looking innocent of any crime and call me by my name.”

He was towering over her, her back pressed against the wall, and he was nearly face to face with her.

“I am sorry, my lord, if you think I had anything to do with what just transpired. As I’ve already explained, he led me to believe the two of you had a longtime friendship. You’ll forgive me for not knowing who is and is not a true friend to you. I would never knowingly seek to embarrass you or your family in any way,” she said, voice cracking at the end, “Now If you’ll excuse me.”

Pushing past him she burst through the door of the church and took off running. She ran past Sarah and the little ones on their way back. She ignored Anna and Brandon’s calls to her as she raced over the footbridge. She ran for a while and when she was tired, she switched to a half run, half walk. Her face was lined with tears and she stumbled her way up the hill, crying and gasping for breath. Her eyes were already puffy and her nose was running in a very unladylike fashion.

How dare he talk to me like that! Emily thought, Acting as if I had ANY idea who that man was!

She was storming through the woods that separated the hill from the estate, angrily muttering under her breath, wiping tears away as she swatted at a branch that whipped at her cheek, catching herself just before she tripped over the root of a tree. A rustle of birds shooting out of a nearby tree drew her attention and she looked up, momentarily distracted by the number of them and briefly blinded by the sun. There was movement to her left and she turned just as her eye felt like it would explode from its socket and everything went black.

******

Grey was running around Rob’s feet, nipping at his heels, barking and whining as they trudged home. He’d spent another hour in the village, walking aimlessly until his anger had dissipated and the shame had overcome him.

What HAD he been thinking lashing out at her like that? It was true that she’d had no way of knowing about the long standing rivalry between their families, truer still that she would never knowingly embarrass him. But seeing Jaime Lannister next to her, being reminded of his father’s financial failings, all brought about by the Lannisters, having Emily bear witness to it all was more than he could take.

His mother would be furious at his obstinacy and outrageous unkindness. His father would have thrashed him for such egregious behavior and disrespect towards a young lady.

A sharp nip at his fingers had him looking at Grey.

“What has gotten into you?” he asked the dog who barked twice loudly and ran ahead of him up the hill.

Thinking the dog had picked up on the scent of a rabbit or other small creature he continued to walk slowly, pondering how he was going to explain this to his mother, thinking about what he would need to say to Emily to earn her forgiveness.

Grey barked again; once, twice, three times, each yelp more frantic than the last and Rob picked up his speed, beginning to worry that Grey had been injured.

There was no sign of the dog at the top of the hill and Rob whistled, calling Grey’s name and scanning the tree line. A high pitched whine responded and Rob headed in its general direction, continuing to call for the dog, whose barks increased in volume and agitation.

Pushing his way through some low lying branches he caught sight of Grey, sniffing something and his heart constricted in his throat.

“No,” he said, “No. Emily. No!” he said, staggering towards her prone body and falling on his knees beside her. Grey licked her hand, his paw resting protectively on her leg. There was blood beneath his knees and the side of her head was split open, hair matted with drying blood. Her left cheek had a scratch across it and the shawl she had been wearing was tangled in a nearby branch as if it had snagged there as she fell. Her clothes were intact and aside from one of her shoes dangling on her foot, everything else appeared normal.

“Emily,” he whispered, his hands gently searching her face, “Emily, please.Please wake up. Please. You can’t– I–” he began, his voice rough and broken.

Her good eye, the one not swollen due to the blow, fluttered open, “Rob,” she croaked, “Hit…I,” she rasped.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Everything is going to be alright,” he soothed, taking her hand carefully in her own

 

“Sorry,” she said softly, her eye shutting once more.

“Emily!” he shouted and Grey gave a sharp, loud bark.

This could not be happening. Not now. Not when they still had so much left to learn and say to each other.

Her eye opened slightly and she mouthed the word,”Help.”

Lifting her into his arms with as much care and caution as he could manage he took off towards Winterfell, going as fast as he could without jostling her too much. Her eye was closed again but he could feel the slight lift of her chest as she breathed slowly, far too slowly for his liking.

Catherine heard her son’s shouts for help from the desk in the study where she sat writing and by the time she reached the door Pearce, along with the head groom and Mrs. Worth were gathered around her son.

“Send for Doctor Gill,” Pearce commanded Mrs. Worth who nearly knocked Catherine over in her haste to get inside, “Help me get her ladyship inside,” he ordered one of the nearby footmen.

“No. No!” Rob shouted as the young man reached for Emily, “I’ll take her.”

He caught sight of his mother, standing in the doorway. Taking one look at him and at the limp girl in his arms, she immediately jumped to act. 

 

“Pearce, have hot water and clean towels sent to Miss Morgan’s room. Walters, tell Vaughn to go for Lady Sarah and Lady Anna in the village right now. There should be no delay. Porter, ride for the constable. Thomas, ask Mr. and Mrs. Morgan to meet me in the drawing room at once and someone send for Reverend Ames.”

With the staff off to complete their tasks, Catherine hurried after her son who she found sitting beside his fiancee on the bed. Grey laid on the carpet by the foot of the bed, raising his head and growling menacingly until he saw Catherine.

“Whatever happened?” she asked, taking in Emily’s pale face, marred with dirt and blood.

“It’s all my fault,” he cried, eyes filled with tears, “It’s all my fault.”

And for the first time since his father’s death months earlier, Catherine drew her son into her arms and held him as he wept.


	9. Chapter 9

Two and a half days. Sixty hours. 3,600 minutes. He knew because every minute, every second that passed felt like a dagger to his heart.

The doctor had done everything he could. He’d washed and stitched the cut on her head, a blow taken to the side just above her ear. The scar would eventually be covered by her hair but she’d carry it always as a permanent reminder of her assault. The small cut on her left cheek was deemed superficial and after cleaning and bandaging it, was left to heal on its own. She was assessed for broken bones or sprains and aside from what would likely be a bruise on her back from where she’d fallen to the ground, there was nothing more serious. His mother held a whispered conversation with the doctor who asked them both to step outside so he might privately examine her ladyship. Rob had refused to leave until Catherine stepped in and said she would stay in the room. She had held her breath until the doctor reassured her there had been no further violation of Lady Emily’s body. It was a small mercy in a day that had turned terrifyingly violent.

Emily had remained unresponsive throughout his examinations. She was breathing, though it was still labored and she was still far too pale because of the loss of blood. His biggest concern was the swelling on her brain that the blow to her head and caused and was likely the reason she wasn’t awake.

“Hopefully if the swelling subsides, she’ll awaken.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Rob had asked.

The doctor had smiled sadly, “Then nature will take its course, I fear.”

“No. That can’t happen. Do you hear me? There must be something you can do? Bleeding her or a medicine of some kind.”

“My lord, I’m afraid that if I bled her ladyship she would most certainly perish. She’s already lost a great deal of blood. Furthermore, to remove swelling in the head would require a surgery that I am not confident I could perform and I certainly would not be able to do it here. Right now moving Lady Emily would be most dangerous.”

“So we’re just supposed to let her—“

“What can we do for her, Doctor?” Catherine had interjected, sensing Rob’s distress.

“Keep her still and keep the room quiet. Allowing some sunlight and fresh air in is helpful. Use a wet cloth to keep her mouth dampened, some of the water will hopefully get into her system as well. If she wakes up, send for me immediately, regardless of the time of day.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Catherine had said quietly as she led the man to the door.

“Your son looks a bit weary, my lady. I would recommend some rest for him as well.”

Catherine nodded. She didn’t disagree but she knew Rob was going nowhere, rest be damned while Emily lay sleeping somewhere beyond his reach.

They’d lied to the Morgans, explaining Emily had fallen and hit her head on her walk home and the lie alone made Rob sick. He knew this was no random accident, knew Emily had not tripped and fallen. She’d been brutally attacked, unaware that someone had waited and watched for her. There was only one likely culprit and as soon as he saw Westeros again, there was no force in the world that might hold him back. He already suspected they were behind the fires and now Emily, his Emily, lay somewhere between life and death.

The constable and his men had performed a search but aside from Emily’s shawl and a large tree branch they believed had been used to hit her based on a little blood and a few strands of her hair, there was no other signs anything had happened in the woods. A visit had been paid to Casterly Manor but Lady Westeros had left for London that morning and Lord Westeros had been seen driving in his motorcar and paying a visit to a shop in the village. It didn’t matter. Rob knew they were responsible in some way and he had every intention of figuring out how.

The Morgans had made a show out of the impropriety of Rob remaining in the room with Emily unattended and Catherine had suggested that she and the girls would rotate shifts so the two were never alone. Once the offer was made, the Morgans came for a visit once a day for an hour. No one dared suggest they visit more frequently.

Grey, like his master, refused to leave Emily’s bedroom. He spent his days sleeping on the carpet, growling whenever someone entered, and leaving only for brief walks or to eat. Catherine pleaded with Rob to get some rest, begged him to eat something, to take the air, to do anything other than wait and watch. He hadn’t told her about their argument in the village, hadn’t confessed that he was the reason she was hurt, didn’t dare voice his very worst fears. Instead he sat and paced and prayed and hoped.

Emily’s eyes flickered open, the light almost painful. Her head pounded and her mouth felt dry and for a moment she thought she’d dreamed of an estate in the English countryside and a man who infuriated her and made her feel desperate with want all at the same time. Turning her head caused a sharp stab of pain to radiate up her face and her eyes searched the room, landing on a familiar form gazing out the window.

“Rob,” she whispered, her voice unfamiliar to her own ears.

Grey whined and Rob turned, eyes landing on her.

“Rob,” she repeated again, a little more strongly.

“Emily. Sweetheart, is it really you?” he asked, sitting beside her and taking her hand in his own.

“What—What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

She began to shake her head but even that small

movement caused her pain and she let out a small

whimper.

“It’s alright. Don’t move. You were hit in the head, quite hard. Grey and I found you in the woods. We brought you home.”

A vague recollection of entering the small copse of trees flashed through her mind and then nothing.

“I’ve…what day is it?”

“Friday afternoon,” he said.

She struggled to sit upright, closing her eyes against the bile that rolled in her stomach at the sudden movement.

“Why can’t I sit up? Why can’t I open my eye all the way? Am I crippled? Oh God, I am and now you’ll never marry me.”

“Emily, Emily, you’re alright. Well, you’re not crippled at least. You were hit in the head, it left you unconscious for the last two days and you can’t open your eye all the way because of the swelling.”

She relaxed at this news, relieved her injuries weren’t anymore serious.

“And my mother and father?” she asked hesitantly, “Are they planning to take me home?”

Rob looked away at the mention of her parents. Did she want to go home? He’d have no right to protest if she did and the Morgans called the whole thing off. He’d also have no way to explain it to his own mother but he’d face that conversation when it came.

“Your parents…well, we may have glossed over the truth a bit. And I am sorry for that. If you want to go home then of course that’s your right and I’ll understand completely—“

“Do you want me to go home?” she asked quietly.

“What? No! No, of course not. I want you to stay right here with us…with me.”

She squeezed his hand, her thumb tracing small circles on the back of his flesh.

“I thought you’d want me to leave after what happened with that man in the village.”

“Oh, Emily, sweetheart. No. I was foolish and unnecessarily unkind to you and blamed you for things over which you had no control. I’m so, so sorry for behaving the way I did.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t tell my parents the truth then,” she said as he cocked an eyebrow at her, “They definitely would have insisted on taking me home.”

He pressed a kiss to her hand. “I am most sorry, Emily.”

Giving him a weak smile she resumed making circles on his hand.

“It’s alright. Though I do, eventually, want to hear about the history between you and Mr. Lannister.”

“I promise, just as soon as you are well I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

She sighed, “May I have a drink?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, looking around the room as though a pitcher might appear, “I’ll ring down for something and for the doctor, of course. We’re supposed to send for him if you awaken or anything changes. And your parents, of course, you’ll want to see them. And my mother and Anna and Sarah will be so relieved…”

“You won’t leave me, will you?”

He looked over at her, “Never,” he said gently.

*****

Emily, it turned out, was an awful patient. She hated being confined to her bed and no amount of reading material or long visits with Anna and Sarah or card games with Rob could deter her from getting out of bed. She hated feeling like an invalid, reliant on everyone else for even the simplest of things. And despite the pain in her head or how easily fatigued she became, she insisted on taking short walks around the garden. At first she went with Sarah and Anna, followed closely by Rob and Brandon who were on high alert for any sign of exhaustion. As the days passed and she grew stronger, she’d walk with Brandon and Grey during his break from morning lessons. After tea Rob would walk her through the same path of the morning, sharing the latest happenings from the village and bringing her notes and pictures the little ones had drawn and written.

The swelling in her face continued to decrease, the bruises changing from deep purple to yellow. Rob could barely look at her without wanting to run Jamie Lannister clear through. The constable had no additional leads or information and while he agreed that Lannister likely had been behind the attack on Emily and the setting of the fires, he had no way of proving it beyond Rob’s word that bad blood existed between the families.

The Morgans had backed off rushing the wedding forward though their relentless complaining continued, driving Catherine to suggest on more than occasion that they consider a visit to Mrs. Morgan’s childhood home.

Days passed and eventually Emily returned to the village, first for an hour or two at a time and then for longer stretches. Rob refused to allow her to walk, making her reliant on the chauffeur to get her to and from Winterfell. Even then he insisted she bring someone with her if he could not accompany her. Everyone was on high alert for the slightest sign of something, anything, out of the ordinary to happen.

Nearly a month had passed since her assault and with Rob off surveying the progress made on the barns and new houses, Emily was enjoying a quiet afternoon, reading a new book and waiting for Brandon’s lessons to be finished so they could take a walk.

Sarah burst into the sitting room, a paper in hand that she waved about her head with great enthusiasm.

“It’s such exciting news, Emily!”

“What is? Here, come sit with me and tell me everything.”

“There’s to be a ball at Blackwall Castle. Well, it’s not really a castle, it’s just called that. Anyway, there’s to be a great party and we’re all invited to go!”

“And where is Blackwall Castle? And who is hosting this party?” Emily asked.

“Oh! Oh, quite right. Our cousin, Lord Snowden is hosting the ball. Blackwall is his family estate.”

“Ahh, now I see. Lord Snowden is a cousin on your mother’s side?”

“Father’s. His mother was my father’s sister. And family legend has it that his father, Lord Snowden the elder, was once the Queen’s closest confidant and friend but he betrayed her trust and was never welcome at court again.”

“Sarah!” Catherine chided, entering the room and taking the letter from her daughter’s hand, “You know that is all just rumor and idle gossip.”

“Yes, Mother. Of course.”

“Although it is quite true that Lord Snowden was never again in the presence of her Majesty,” Catherine commented, eyes sweeping over the letter, “It appears there is to be a great ball celebrating Lord Snowden’s birthday.”

“We will go, won’t we, Mother?”

“It will depend on your brother but he and Lord Snowden have always been close. I’m sure he’ll wish to attend the celebrations and have the chance to introduce Lady Emily to family and other friends.”

Emily nodded politely though the idea of being passed around from cousin to cousin while being assailed with one hundred questions about the wedding held little appeal.

Sarah practically squealed in delight, “Emily you must help me select a gown! And I need to decide on what to do with my hair. Oh there’s so much to be done!” she said, jumping up from her seat.

“You’ll have to excuse her, Sarah has always loved a party,” Catherine commented, placing the letter on a small tray with the other mail for her son.

“What party?” Anna asked, coming into the room.

“It seems your cousin is holding a party to celebrate his birthday,” Catherine said.

“Jon’s having a party?! May we please go, Mother? He promised to show me the new horses in his stable when we came to visit!”

“Anna, I hardly think that Lord Snowden will have the time to take you anywhere. He’ll have a houseful of guests to attend to.”

Anna crossed her arms and sank down onto the settee beside Emily, a glum expression on her face.

“Are you close with Lord Snowden?” Emily asked.

“Oh very! He and Rob were at Oxford together and he spent many summers here when they were boys. He’s quite fun and very smart and all the young ladies flirt with him endlessly but Jon pays them no attention.”

“Anna! Where do you hear such things?” Catherine asked incredulously.

“It’s not exactly a secret that Jon has dozens of admirers, Mother. Even my friends fancy him.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, you’re all just children still.”

“I didn’t say I fancied him! Or anyone for that matter! I’m just telling Emily.”

“You know you’ll have to wear a gown for the occasion, don’t you Anna?” Catherine asked.

Anna shrugged, “It will be worth it if it means seeing Jon.”

Catherine shook her head, “It will all depend on your brother. He’s very occupied with affairs here right now.”

She and Emily exchanged a glance. Rob’s single mindedness at finding the culprit behind the fires and Emily’s injuries had them both worried.

“What all depends on me?” Rob asked, stepping into the room as Grey trotted over to Emily for a dose of scratches and pats.

“Jon’s having a party! Please say we can go!” Anna said as Rob read the letter his mother handed him.

“I think a party is just the distraction we need right now,” he said.

Anna jumped up, racing to the door, “I’ll tell Sarah!”

Catherine shook her head at her daughter, “You’ll have to forgive both of my daughters, Lady Emily, apparently a party at Blackwall is quite the excitement. I’ll go see Mrs. Worth, she’ll need to begin preparing for our departure.”

As soon as the door had clicked shut behind her Rob was beside Emily, tilting her chin up for a gentle kiss. They’d only recently resumed their amorous activities thanks to her injuries and neither of them had made it a secret that they had missed the others touch.

“How are you, sweetheart?”

“Quite well, my…Rob.”

“And are you ready for the exertions of travel and late nights and a ball?”

“If it means I’m with you, then yes. And I’ve heard so much about Lord Snowden that I am most looking forward to meeting him!”

Rob laughed, “You and Jon are sure to get along famously.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because the two of you seek out ways to drive me mad. I can only imagine what plots you’ll devise at my expense.”

“I take offense, sir! I would never plot against you,” she said, looking wounded though her twinkling eyes said something else, “I swore not to.”

He smiled remembering her promise of not so long ago.

“It was, however, only a promise to not draw Anna and Sarah into any further plots. I never said anything about Lord Snowden,” she teased.

He groaned. She and Jon together would be an unstoppable force.


	10. Chapter 10

“What on Earth are the two of you whispering about?” Rob asked as Emily laughed heartily at something Jon had said.

“Lord Snowden was just telling me about the time you got caught in the stream,” she replied, another fit of giggles overtaking her.

“I’m sure he left out the part about him floating down the stream on our makeshift raft.”

“You didn’t!” Emily gasped.

“As surely as the sky is blue, my lady. I was up to my knees in the muck and mud and Jon was calling out my name as he drifted away.”

“Why didn’t you just get off?”

Jon shrugged, “Robinson Crusoe wouldn’t have abandoned his raft.”

“It was less about the raft and more about not getting those famous curls wet as I recall.”

The two men laughed as Emily burst into a fresh round of giggles.

“Have we appalled you with tales of our misspent youth?” Jon asked, watching Emily watch Rob.

“Hardly, Lord Snowden.”

“I’m fairly certain Lady Emily has her own adventures she could share,” Rob teased.

“Lord Northland believes me to have been some sort of feral child; tormenting my tutors and slurping my soup while plotting my future antics.”

“And were you a wilding as a child, Lady Emily?” Jon asked.

“I may have had a bit of a penchant for mischief,” she said, eyes twinkling, “And now, gentlemen, I must beg your pardon. I promised Anna and Sarah they could take me for a walk through your gardens, Lord Snowden.”

Rob tugged her back to him, her hand in his own, “You will be careful, won’t you?” he asked softly.

“Of course. Anna and Sarah are with me and the guard Lord Snowden has assigned to watch me is never more than few paces away.”

“But I never—“ Jon began in protest.

“Surely you don’t expect me to believe that the two men dressed in black who are constantly popping out of the shadows and turning away the moment I make eye contact aren’t part of your personal guard? What is it they’re called? The Crows, I believe?”

“However did you figure that out?” Jon asked.

“Perhaps I was a little more wilding than I let on,” she said, squeezing Rob’s hand and heading for the door. “Do try and stay out of trouble you two. I wouldn’t want to see any of the curly hair on either of your heads harmed,” she teased.

Rob was still gazing at the door, a soft look of bemusement on his face and Jon nudged him with an elbow.

“Oh you’ve been ensnared, my friend.”

“Fully captured in her web,” Rob said, not even attempting to protest.

“She is delightful,” Jon said, pouring a glass of brandy and offering it to Rob.

“Thank you for having your men watch out for her.”

“As if I would allow anything to happen to the future Lady Northland. Yours is not a wrath I wish to incur.”

“If only it was quite so simple to identify who does wish to incur it.”

“Still no clues as to who might be responsible for the fires or for Lady Emily’s accident?”

Rob shook his head, “None. Aside from the argument with Westeros and a leftover torch in the woods near the farms, there isn’t a single thing linking anyone else to the crimes.”

“And you’re certain it’s not a disgruntled tenant or someone from the village?”

“As sure as I can be right now. No one has the motive to burn down the farms and why would anyone want to hurt Emily who was going out of her way to help?”

“I’d suggest a scorned lover but you live like a monk so that seems unlikely,” Jon said, handing Rob a second tumbler.

“Yes, well, not all of us have your…innate charm.”

Jon laughed, “It’s not charm, Rob. It’s called smiling. You don’t need to be quite so serious all the time, cousin.”

“I’m not serious all the time. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Not because you intend to have the most wonderful time imaginable.:

“You know how much I detest these affairs. All the polite conversation with people you don’t really like, the crowded ballroom, all the women eyeing you to see if you’ll be a suitable match for a daughter or a cousin or a friend.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that at the very least. You are quite unavailable.”

“Extremely unavailable,” he said, smiling.

“I never thought I’d see the day that Rob Stark, Lord Northland, would be smitten with a pretty American heiress.”

“Keep that up and you won’t see the day that American heiress becomes Lady Northland.”

Jon chuckled, “It’s good to see you happy, Rob. Truly.”

Rob grinned and punched Jon on the arm, “Don’t go getting all sentimental on me now.”

“Never. Guess who I heard from just this morning?”

“The King?”

“Hardly. Greyjoy.”

“Greyjoy? What’s he doing these days?”

“Running the family shipping business as I understand it.”

“The Marquess finally retired?”

“No. Reading between the lines it sounds as though he’s put Theo in charge without giving him any real power. The Marquess is threatening not to die until Theo finds a suitable bride.”

“So he’s coming to escape his father, then?”

 

“Likely. And to find a bride.”

“Better him than me,” Rob thought to himself. He’d seen the guest list and aside from his sisters, there wasn’t a long list of eligible beauties.

“Come on, let’s go find the girls and see if we can talk them into a game of shuttlecock,” Jon said, heading for the door, “The Lady Emily and I versus you and Anna.”

“And what if Sarah wishes to play?”

“When has Sarah ever wanted to play shuttlecock?” Jon asked jovially. Sarah was not known for her athletic prowess, much preferring to sit and watch, cheering from the sidelines.

“Winner dances with the other’s partner at the ball?” Rob suggested.

Rolling his eyes Jon laughed, “I take it you mean to win?”

“Don’t I always?”

The girls had wanted to play but Emily decided they would play by the rules she and Anna determined not the ones Jon and Rob set forth.

“The teams will be Anna and me against you. Winner gets….hmm, well, you, Lord Snowden, will cut off some of those curls of yours and you, Lord Northland, will allow Lady Sarah to dance with as many eligible bachelors as she wishes.”

“And what if we win, Lady Emily?” Rob asked.

“I don’t know. What do you think, Lady Anna?”

“If you win then I’ll help Mrs. Worth organize the library like you want her to, Rob.”

“And I’ll cut two inches off my hair,” Emily said.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Rob said. He’d only ever seen it down when she’d been recovering from the attack, long and dark with a gentle curl to it. He’d itched to touch it then and the idea of her cutting any of it off made him crazy.

“Fair is fair, Rob,” Jon said, relieved to not be the only one whose hair was on the literal and figurative chopping block.

Rob groaned. He’d known they’d be a utterly terrifying combination.

“Fine. But don’t expect me to wheedle your way out of this deal when you lose,” he said, fixing Emily with a glance.

“Oh, don’t worry. I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, turning towards Anna.

“Hellion,” Rob whispered when she was out of earshot.

Jon laughed, “I like Lady Emily more and more.”

*****

“I take it back,” Jon wheezed, falling onto the grass, “She is a hellion.”

“What was that, Lord Snowden?” she asked, her face peering down at him.

“He was just complimenting your excellent performance, sweetheart,” Rob said through gasps for air.

“It was an excellent match, wasn’t it, Lady Anna?”

“One of the finest I believe I’ve ever played.”

The two men were struggling to sit up and they eyed Anna and Emily as they huffed and panted.

“Would you at least pretend to be winded by your exertions?” Jon asked, his heart continuing to race in his chest.

“Oh it’s hard to feign exhaustion when all I can think about is how you’ll look with short hair!”

Jon fell back onto the grass with a feeble protest. He’d lost the bet.

*****

The room was jammed with people spilling over onto the adjoining rooms and hallways. The young girls craned their necks, looking about the room for eligible bachelors from whom to choose. The older guests; parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles stayed along the walls, far from the ruckus of the musicians and young people. Several couples danced, a crowd gathered near the refreshments, and Jon, in the center of it all, held court as a swarm of people stood nearby commenting on his hair and on the party.

“I’m not sure if I should thank your fiancee for making me cut my hair or suggest another round of shuttlecock in the hopes she loses,” Jon said to Rob who stood nearby drinking a glass of champagne, pretending to be wonderfully unaffected by the gaggle of young girls who stood in one corner staring at him and giggling.

“I’d very much like to know where my fiancee is,” he said to his cousin, scanning the crowds for any sign of her. His mother was deep in conversation with Lord Vale, a man Rob had spent nearly his entire life loathing. Sarah and Anna had arrived half an hour earlier and while Anna was standing uncomfortably in the corner looking like she wanted to tear her dress off, Sarah was flitting about the room, flirting with any young man in her proximity. Lady Rosalind, to whom he’d once been engaged at twenty-three, stood beside her father, the grim and horrible Lord Rivers. Rosalind was a beauty for sure but her father was even more dreadful than Emily’s and he had been delighted when his father had called an end to the engagement.

“Rob,” Jon said from beside him, giving his shoulder a small nudge before nodding in the direction of the entryway.

It felt as if every set of eyes in the room had turned in her direction and Emily considered a hasty departure. She could certainly say she’d been overcome by a headache and no one would question it after her recent illness.

“Why ever are you standing in the doorway like some addle brained cow?” her mother hissed from behind her, nearly stepping on her daughter’s gown.

A smile from Catherine, who stood nearby made her smile back and despite her mother’s less than kind words, she entered the room as if she’d been born to this life of nobility.

“Your mouth is open,”Jon whispered, half chuckling at the sight of his normally composed cousin caught so off guard.

She looked like an illustration from one of the books of fairytales Sarah had loved as a girl. Her gown was white, covered with lace with a ribbon of the palest blue at her waist and netting that overlay the gown. Her dark hair was pulled back and a thin tiara of diamonds had been set into the soft waves.

“She’s never allowed to gamble with her hair again,” he whispered to Jon from the side of his mouth.

“Hello,” she greeted, giving a careful curtsey.

“You look radiant,” he said, taking her gloved hand in his.

“Everyone’s staring.”

“At you,” he answered and her cheeks flushed.

“Lady Emily,” Jon interrupted, bending low over her hand before kissing it.

“Lord Snowden. Everything looks so beautiful this evening.”

“Made even more lovely by your presence,” he said and Rob cleared his throat.

Jon waved his hand in the direction of the band, hoping the music would at least momentarily take the attention away from Rob and Emily or at the very least distract Lord Rivers from scowling at them like they were guilty of some horrible crime.

“May I?” Rob asked, offering her his hand.

She nodded her agreement as he led her onto the floor.

It was a waltz and Rob and she moved as though they’d been dancing together all of their lives. She noticed Sarah being turned by a young man with dark hair and wild eyes. Anna was smiling at them though Emily could see she was wishing the night would be over sooner rather than later. Jon was deep in conversation with a striking young lady she hadn’t seen before and her father was off in a corner, talking with a man whose face she was unable to make out.

“You waltz beautifully,” Rob complimented as the song came to an end.

“Thank you. Contrary to what you may have heard, I did pay attention in some of my lessons. Dancing was a particular favorite,” she teased.

Rob laughed, “Touche, madam.”

“Now would you mind telling me who that young man over in the corner is? He’s been staring at you for quite some time.”

Rob turned in the direction she had indicated.

“That, my lady, is Lord Theo, future Marquess of Greyjoy.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Greyjoy, might I present my fiancée, Miss Emily Morgan.”

“It is a pleasure, Miss Morgan,” he said, giving a small bow.

“The pleasure is all mine, Lord Theo,” she replied, returning his bow with a curtsey.

“Forgive me but do I detect a hint of an accent?”

“Guilty as charged. American,”she said.

“Really? American you say? Daughter of one of those pompous nouveau riche worming their way into British society?”

“That’s quite enough, Greyjoy.” Rob’s tone was sharp.

“I never pegged you for being one to fall prey to the Americans and their money, Northland,” the man continued.

“Don’t say another word, Greyjoy.”

The slender man laughed, “And what will you have done, Northland? Kick me off your cousin’s property as you did with Westeros?”

Where on Earth had he heard that piece of news? And why was he bringing it up?

“Miss Morgan, perhaps you’d better find my sisters and mother,” Rob said, eyeing the other man.

Emily placed a gentle hand on his arm and he turned to her, smiling slightly, “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’ll join you all in a minute.”

Emily nodded, hastening to find Catherine who had all but disappeared in the crowd. She could just make out Sarah’s red hair but it would take forever to get to her. Her own parents had seemingly disappeared and Jon was occupied with a dark haired girl she didn’t recognize.

Heading for the door in search of Catherine a hand on her arm stopped her pursuit.

“Come with me Miss Morgan. I can take you to Lady Northland,” the man said. He was easily the same age as her father though his slim figure and still dark hair made him appear younger.

“But I don’t…” she began in protest.

“I’m Lord Vale. I grew up with Lady Northland. She’s just stepped into the hallway for a moment.”

Of course there would be someone else claiming to know the Northlands for the last twelve generations. Glancing over her shoulder she caught sight of Rob backing a grinning Greyjoy into a corner. Whatever words were being exchanged would not end well.

“Yes, please. And hurry,” Emily said, following the man through the doors and down the hallway.

“Emily!” Catherine said, “You look alarmed, my dear.”

Emily leaned close, whispering in her future mother in law’s ear and watching Catherine’s face change from surprise to shock to concern.

“Peter. Lord Vale. I need you to find any of Lord Snowden’s men and bring them to me immediately. Where is Jon? Come with me Emily. See if you can capture Sarah’s attention as we go.”

Jon caught sight of Catherine and Emily hurrying across the hall and a moment later noticed one of his men making his way surreptitiously through the room. No more than half a second later a loud gasp rose from the crowd and then a woman shrieked in horror.

Rob had a split lip but Theo, well, Theo was clutching his nose as blood dripped from between his fingers.

“Get him out of here,” Jon ordered his man, nodding towards Theo, “And find Dr. Hastings.”

“What on Earth were you thinking, Rob?” Catherine hissed, the crowd around them growing larger.

“He insulted me and when that wasn’t enough for him, he moved on to insulting Emily in the most vile and indecent terms.”

“You’re hurt,” Emily said, touching his hand where his knuckles were red and swollen and he looked at her, grimacing at her concern.

“Pardon me, Lady Northland, but I think it should be mentioned that Lord Northland struck Lord Theo only after he’d been attacked himself. And if what I overheard is any indication, Lord Northland held back from striking the man for quite some time.”

“And you are?” Catherine asked, taking in the tall blonde woman beside her.

“Lady Brienne Payne,” she said, inclining her head to all of them.

“Yes, well, thank you Lady Payne.”

“You should see the doctor, Rob,” Jon commented.

“I don’t need to see the doctor. I just need to clean off my lip. I’ll be fine.”

“Let me at least take a look,” Emily said softly, “Maybe a bandage for your hand?”

Nodding to her they turned in the direction of the exit, pulling up short as Mr. Morgan thundered up to them.

“Is this some kind of English civility I am unfamiliar with? I betrothed my daughter to a man I was assured was of the highest breeding and nobility and yet, here you are acting as though we are in a common brothel!”

“Sir, I think—“

“You will not “sir” me, my boy. Fighting like a common street vagrant at a ball? What kind of people do you think we are? No, no, I will not have it. My family name will not be besmirched by marrying my only child off to the likes of you.”

“Mr. Morgan, that is quite enough! Lord Northland came to your daughter’s defense as vile and malicious things were being said about her. He only struck the young man in question after being hit himself,” Catherine said, rounding on the older gentleman.

Morgan continued to bluster, shouting something about dignity and decorum despite his own lack of both at the present. Lady Payne stepped in to distract him and whether it was her size or offer of brandy that captured Morgan’s attention, Emily was profoundly grateful.

“Is there somewhere quiet we might go, Lord Snowden?” Emily asked.

“My study isn’t far. I’ll take you there and have some supplies brought for you.”

*******

Swabbing a bit of ointment across Rob’s split lip, he winced at the sting, and she murmured a soft apology.

“It looks worse than it is, my lady.”

“Hush, I’m not able to tend to it properly if you speak.”

Stilling her hands with his own, he looked up at her, “Are you angry, sweetheart?”

“Yes. No. I’m…I wish I could be angry but I only feel…worried.”

“There is nothing to be worried about, Emily.”

“Nothing to be worried about, my lord? You’ve lost farms, I’ve been injured, you’ve been injured and now my father is threatening to withdraw his offer of marriage. I feel as if there is a great deal to be worried about.”

“I promise you that you have nothing to fear,” he said, drawing her close, his head resting against the front of her dress.

“I am terrified, Rob,” she said, her hands rising and falling and rising again, uncertain where to settle, fearful that touching him would be improper or unwanted.

“Please don’t be. I can handle anything but knowing you’re afraid,” he whispered and she felt his breath through the fabric of her gown, felt the tremor in his body, the catch in his voice.

It was his broken sob that did her in. Placing her hands on the soft curl of his hair she held him near.

“Then I shall endeavor to be fearless,” she answered, bending down to kiss the crown of his head.

*******

“Have you gone mad, Greyjoy?” Jon was shouting as Theo held his head between his hands.

His head pounded and even the slightest sound made him close his eyes in pain.

“I don’t know what came over me. One moment he was introducing me and the next I was–”

“Poking the bear. You must be out of your mind. Rob will not allow this insult to pass.”

“He nearly broke my nose, Snowden.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t break you,” Jon said, slumping into his seat.

“I don’t know what I said, Jon. I remember looking at them dancing and then the next thing I knew he was punching me.”

“Well you damn well better start to remember. Rob will expect an apology and if you wish to step foot here in Blackhall again you’ll make one to Lady Emily as well.”

“And I would gladly give it, Jon. But I don’t recall anything in between seeing them and when Rob hit me,” he said, leaning forward as though he might be sick.

“Did you overdrink? You look pale.”

“No. I had a glass of champagne when I first arrived and another right before I saw Rob. One of your maids was passing them around.”

“A maid? The maids weren’t serving–What did this maid look like?”

“Red hair, green eyes, quite pretty actually. Same black dress and white apron they all wear.”

Jon looked at the man sitting across from him, “Red hair you say?”

“Like garnets.”

“I don’t have a maid with red hair.”

“What do you mean you don’t have a maid with red hair? I saw her with my own–Oh. Do you–”

“I think someone set you up, Greyjoy. Someone wanted you and Rob to fight,” he said, walking to the door and ringing the bell, “Someone is after Rob and we need to figure out who it is before this goes any further.”

******

“I don’t understand what all the fuss is about. It wasn’t that interesting until Rob punched that awful man,” Anna said as they walked along the tree lined path.

“Oh Anna, really. Must you be such a child? Emily doesn’t wish to talk about such dreadful things. Do you?” Sarah asked, turning to Emily.

“No, thank you. I’d rather not if it’s just as well with the both of you.”

“Of course,” Sarah said.

“I’m sorry, Emily. I didn’t mean to upset you further,” Anna said, sliding her arm into Emily’s.

“It’s quite alright, Anna. Now, tell me all about the young men you danced with, Sarah.”

“Oh it was wonderful, Emily. There were so many handsome men and some of them dance so elegantly.”

“Because that’s the obvious trait one should seek in a husband,” Anna teased, rolling her eyes.

“Hush now and let her finish,” Emily said, squeezing Anna’s hand.

“And there was one, Lord Dreadfort. Oh Emily, he has the loveliest eyes.”

“And the worst title,”Anna giggled.

“Would you please shut up?”

“Lady Dreadfort. That sounds awful. Isn’t his Millnorth House? The one mother always calls a mausoleum?”

“Anna!” Emily protested though she was near laughter herself.

“Just because you spent the night hiding in the corner with no one to dance with doesn’t mean you have to ruin the memories for me.”

“I wouldn’t want any of those pompous boys to come within a foot of me.”

“That’s good then because with a face like that they’re certainly never going to.”

“Sarah!”Emily reprimanded.

“I can’t wait for you to get married and leave. You’re a horrible, wretched creature and I hate you!” Anna shouted, wrenching her arm from Emily’s and running back towards the house.

“That was most unkind, Sarah. You should apologize for saying those things.”

“But she…I thought you were my friend!” Sarah said, tears forming in her eyes as she turned and ran for the house.

Sighing as her eyes filled with her own tears she sat on a nearby bench, Everything was going so wrong.

“Lady Emily? Might I inquire as to whether you are alright?” a male voice asked, causing her to look up.

“Lord Vale. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there. Yes, I’m fine. Just reflecting.”

“On the events of last night?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, last night and other happenings of late.”

“I heard that there have been some tragedies of late at Winterfell,” he commented and Emily looked shocked.

“Lady Northland tells me you were hurt most seriously.”

“I was…”

“You have nothing to fear from me, Lady Emily. I have been a friend of Lady Northland’s for many years now.

“I was injured, yes. It seems I bring bad luck with me wherever I go.”

Tutting, he touched her hand, “I doubt that very seriously, Lady Emily. I think you’ve encountered something that has less to do with you and more to do with Lord Northland.”

“But why? I don’t understand why anyone would want to hurt Ro—Lord Northland.”

“The Northlands are an old and noble family, Lady Emily, and old families always have a way of acquiring one of two enemies along the way.”

Sighing she looked around, down the path and back up at the house, “I just don’t understand what would motivate someone to hurt Lord Northland. As I understand it his father and his grandfather before him were both just and honorable men. Lord Northland has demonstrated the same qualities in the short time we have known each other.”

“Jealousy, Lady Emily. Fear, anger at a perceived slight, material gain, lust, all the usual motivations for revenge,” the man said pointedly.

She pulled back slightly, enough to better see his face which appeared placid enough but struck her as off in some way, as though the things he was saying were secrets not meant to be shared.

“Yes, of course, thank you Lord Vale for the course on human nature. I really should be getting back to check on Anna and Sarah. They had a terrible fight and I want to make sure they’re both well now,” she said, standing to go.

“Lady Emily, a piece of advice if I may? You’d do well to get Northland to marry you sooner rather than later. I overheard your father speaking with Lord Rivers last night and it would appear your betrothal to the young wolf is not quite as cemented as you may think.”

A twinge of panic shot through her and for a moment she couldn’t catch her breath. Surely this was idle gossip. The arrangement between their families had already been signed. And yet, she still had no ring, no final date had been set, and now her father was making whispered deals in ballrooms.

Emily gave a weak smile before nodding and heading back towards the house, tears streaming down her face. Being fearless was no longer possible.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: A little smut.

“Peter…Lord Vale insists that Mr. Morgan was talking with Lord Rivers about arranging a marriage contract.”

Slamming his hands down upon the desk he looked at his mother, “With whom? One of his sons?”

Catherine’s face was grim.

“No. With him? He’s old enough to be her father! Morgan would never agree to it. He doesn’t stand to gain anything from it.”

“A title for his daughter and a significantly smaller portion of her inheritance as I understand it.”

Rob grimaced, turning away from his mother. The thought of that man, that horrible old lecher laying a hand on Emily made him sick.

“This is his way of getting back at us for Father breaking the wedding contract between Lady Rosalind and I.”

“I told your Father then that Walter Frey’s ego would be insulted and he would bide his time until he could repay it in full. It seems that time has arrived.”

“And what am I to do? Just stand here and allow that monster to marry her instead?”.

“No. I would hardly suggest that as a plan.”

“Then what do you suggest, Mother? Because right now we are about to lose everything. I am about to lose everything,” he murmured, falling into the chair behind him.

“We will not lose everything, Rob and I will not let you lose her,” Catherine said, taking her son’s hands in her own, “Now, we need a plan.”

******

She had skipped dinner, complaining of a headache when in reality she wished to avoid Sarah and Anna’s anger and because she’d known she wouldn’t be able to pretend as though everything was all right with Lord Vale, her father, and Rob all seated at the same table.

Attempts to distract herself by reading and working on an embroidery project she’d begun all failed. She paced the floors of her room, counting the steps as she circled around and around. She considered ringing for a bath but she’d already taken one earlier in the day. Instead she stood at the window, watching the dark gardens, seeing the faint glimmer of lights from the dining room, wishing she could go back to those first days at Winterfell.

A soft knock sounded on the door, “Lady Emily?”

“Yes? Oh, Sarah. Good evening.”

“I came because I wanted to apologize for what happened earlier. I never should have shouted at you like that. And I shouldn’t have said what I did to Anna but she makes me so angry sometimes. I don’t know why she can’t just be like all the other girls.”

“Because you are Sarah and she is Anna. And neither of you responds or thinks or acts the same.”

Sarah sighed deeply, “May I?” she asked, pointing towards a nearby chair.

Emily nodded. “Did you apologize to Anna.”

“Yes, earlier. And she apologized as well.”

“Good. I’m happy to hear you have resolved your conflict.”

“I wondered if I might—?

“Might what?”

“Speak to you. I did have a wonderful evening and I need to talk to someone and Mother and Rob are so…preoccupied, Anna has no interest in these matters, Bran is only a boy, and I had hoped…well, seeing as how we are to be sisters—“

You may tell me whatever you’d like, Sarah.”

“I think I’m in love.”

Emily did her very best to look serious, “With whom? The young man you were talking about this afternoon?”

“Lord Dreadfort, yes. His father and mine were friends. He knows Rob and Jon and dances quite beautifully. He is well mannered and well educated and quite well traveled.”

“He sounds most accomplished.”

“Oh he is! He plays the piano and speaks four languages fluently, that’s one more than both Rob and Jon and he enjoys reading and art…and he is, well he’s quite remarkable.”

“And a lord in his own right already. His father died two years ago and he has been running Dreadfort ever since. It’s quite a grand estate no matter what Anna says and I know I would be a good wife to him.”

“Sarah, are you certain? Becoming a wife is…well, I don’t know yet myself but I imagine it will be more than just grand estates.”

“But you do want me to be happy, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. But marrying this man means you’d leave Winterfell and see Rob and your mother, Anna, and Bran only a few times a year, perhaps less if Dreadfort is not nearby.”

“I cannot wait to get away from here, from my mother and brother, from all the rules and stifling and never ending list of things we must and mustn’t do. I wish to be the lady of my own house and make my own rules.”

Emily sighed, “I used to wish for the same things, Sarah; to be far from home, away from my parents, to have my own fine home to manage, to be free.”

“And?” Sarah prompted.

“And, I’m finding out it’s not quite the way I’d imagined.”

“But I thought you were happy here, happy with Rob.”

“I am, I am most happy here. I just imagined it would be simpler, I suppose. I thought I’d come, meet your brother, marry him and that we’d do our best to be kind to one another if we were unable to do anything else.”

“He loves you. Even if he hasn’t said it yet.”

Smiling softly Emily put her arm around Sarah, “Enough about me. How do you intend to capture the heart of this young man of yours?”

“Well I’d rather hoped you might help me.”

******

The storm blew in sometime after midnight bringing raging winds and torrential rain that pounded the great estate and rattled the panes in the windows.

Emily slept restlessly, tossing and turning as she struggled to get comfortable, head full of a thousand different thoughts. Sighing she rose from the bed, tossing back the covers and stepping towards the window. It was dark, black and pouring and she jumped as something slammed against another window nearby. Shivering she reached for the wrapper at the foot of the bed, sliding it around her shoulders.

A flash of lightning penetrated the inky blackness and movement at the edge of the garden caught her eye. Surely she was seeing things, a tree tossed about by the wind perhaps, but a second flash revealed someone in black prowling just along the periphery of the trees that led to the house. Perhaps it was one of Lord Snowden’s men but something in the movements, the lack of a lantern and the fact that it was well after midnight gave her pause.

Without thinking she ran from the room, heading for the stairs. Grey, who had taken to sleeping just outside her door, whined as she half jumped, half stepped over him.

Running down the steps she moved in the direction of the study, the room closest to the section of the garden where she’d seen the intruder. Stopping just outside the door she attempted to calm her pounding heart, reaching for a heavy statue on a nearby table.

“What are you doing?” a male voice asked from behind her and she nearly smashed the statue down upon him.

“There’s someone out there,” she whispered, meeting Rob’s eyes.

“In the study?”

She shook her head no, “At least I don’t think so. He was in the garden, heading this direction.”

“Stay here,” he ordered, pushing open the door.

A moment passed before Grey gave a sharp yip and she heard something that sounded like the glass doors open. Hesitating for only a second she rushed headlong into the room, spying the open door and seeing there was no sign of Rob she dashed to the open doorway, peering out and whisper shouting Rob’s name above the rain and wind.

“Rob! Lord Northland! Grey!”

No response, just inky blackness. Ignoring all sense of decorum, she stepped out into the rain, crossing the soaked grass in bare feet, shivering as water dripped down her face.

“Rob!” she cried out again, her voice like a whisper above the din of the rain, “Grey!”

A flash of lightning lit the sky and she saw them, Rob and Grey, heading back towards the house, drenched and wild eyed.

“Are you bloody mad, woman?” he asked, catching sight of her, “You’re in naught but your nightgown. If you don’t freeze to death, you’ll be lucky to avoid pneumonia.”

“I had to know you were safe. I couldn’t…I just needed to know you were safe.”

Hauling her against him he kissed her fiercely with enough force to leave her breathless when he pulled away.

“You could have gotten yourself killed,” he muttered.

“You could have gotten yourself killed,” she repeated, clutching his shirt in her fingers.

“You’re a damn fool running down here to chase after an intruder like that. What would you have done if he had been in the study?”

“Bashed him with that statue. Grey never would have let anyone hurt me.”

He held her close again, trembling in the cold and rain, “You could have been hurt again. What would I do if you were injured a second time? I barely survived the first.”

“I’m fine, Rob. Cold and wet but fine.”

Seeming to remember they were still outside they ran back into the study, dripping water everywhere as they went. Grey padded behind and Rob stopped in the hallway, finding a secret closet in the wall that Emily hadn’t even known was there and pulling out a towel presumably used for cleaning by the looks of it. He wiped Grey down as best he could, making sure to clean his paws and mop up his coat, slicked back from the rain.

“Did you find anything?” she asked, mounting the stairs.

“There was definitely someone out there. I caught sight of him in the garden but he saw me and took off for the woods. Grey and I pursued him but he was fast and I don’t know the layout of Jon’s woods as well as those at Winterfell.”

“Do you have any idea who it might have been?” she asked, stepping into her room and standing back to allow them entry.

“No, but no man wanders another man’s property this late with any kind of honorable intentions.”

Grey trotted over to the fireplace, laying down before the fire’s embers with a loud harrumph of protest.

“Well he’s comfortable at least,” Emily teased. “Here, let me get you a towel.”

Returning after a moment she handed him a towel, watching as he dried his hair, the curls there even more pronounced thanks to the rain.

His shirt clung to his broad form, skimming over his chest and down to his tapered waist. It was riveting to watch his muscles move, the way his arms flexed, the roughly gentle way his hands scrubbed at his head. Blushing she considered the way those hands might touch her. The way she wanted those hands to be touching her.

Every fiber of his being was fighting against the urge to kiss her and never stop. She had no idea what she did to him, how much he wanted to touch her, the way he spent hours of his day thinking about all the things he wanted to do with her.

Her gown was clinging to her body, her full, round breasts were barely hidden beneath the thin layer of her clothing and the way she clutched her wrapper around her waist only served to emphasize her petite form and the tiny span of her waist.

“Rob,” she began at the same time he said her own name and then they were in each other’s arms, mouths meeting in a flurry of tongues and teeth and frantic need.

“Don’t ever chase after an intruder like that again,” he whispered, kissing her hard.

“Don’t run after an intruder like a trained soldier,” she retorted, meeting his kiss.

His hands held her fast around the waist, tethering and steadying her all at once and he felt her knees give way when he kissed a line from her mouth, across her cheek and up her jawline.

Her hands tangled in his hair as her head fell back. She was behaving like a wanton prostitute, dragging him closer while making noises of pleasure that would have scandalized her if she had been capable of clear thought.

“You must promise me that you’ll never leave me,” he said, kissing her throat.

“I won’t, but only if you never leave me.”

“Promise you won’t let your father marry you to someone else.”

“I’d rather be penniless with you,” she swore.

He kissed her again, stoking the embers of the fire he’d created, relishing the sounds of her whimpers.

His hands began to roam higher, sliding slowly up the sides of her gown until his palms touched the sides of her breasts. A strangled gasp came from her throat and they pulled away from each other in haste.

“We can’t,” she murmured, clutching her soaked wrapper around herself.

“I know. Forgive me. I…I’m not sure what came over me. It was most improper.”

“My lord…Rob,” she said, his blue eyes meeting hers.

“Emily.”

“Please don’t leave me tonight. I’m terrified. We don’t know who was out there, we don’t know what his intentions were, we don’t know if he’s still out there.”

“I must tell Jon. He’ll want to know. He’ll need to increase his guard, no doubt.”

“So tell Jon but please come back.”

He gave a nod, told Grey to stay, and left the room.

It was nearly two hours later before he returned. He’d woken Jon, explained the situation and the two had discussed a course of action. They’d alert the local constable in the morning but for tonight Jon would have his men patrol the gardens and tree line.

Emily had fallen asleep, her hair still damp on the pillow, her hand clutched in a fist by her face.

Kissing her forehead gently he pulled the blanket up over her sleeping form before settling into the chair near the fireplace.

Grey, torn between loyalty to his master and his affection for his new mistress walked from Rob to Emily and then back again before circling a spot at the midway point between them and collapsing with a huff.

It was an uneasy night of sleep, one that left more questions than answers. And Rob was determined to figure out what was happening.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: ANGST, ANGST ANGST

The return to Winterfell felt as if it lasted for months. Nerves were frayed, tensions were high, and everyone was deep in their own thoughts.

“Henry, please tell me whatever business you have begun is officially concluded. I am most anxious to see these matters concluded and return home,” Amelia Morgan moaned from beside her daughter.

“Patience, my dear. Patience. These things take time. New contracts must be drawn up and agreed upon and the old, well, the old must be broken,” he said.

“Whatever do you mean, Papa? Have you entered into a business agreement?”

“Yes, I have. The business is you, my dear. I am arranging a new marriage contract for you.”

Emily bit back tears, “But I am already betrothed…”

“And betrothals begin and end. No, I am quite tired of Lord Northland’s delay, his lack of manners, and the ease with which he holds me off as though he is the one offering me some great prize and not the other way round.”

“Mother, surely you must…”

“It is done, Emily. We shall thank the Northlands for their…hospitality…if it can be called that and move on to your new home.”

“My new home?”

“You’re to be the Lady Rivers, my dear. Outright. No mother in law to interfere or act as though she is above you.”

“But Lord Rivers is an old man!”

Her father struck her then, hard enough to make her teeth rattle in her head. Amelia gave a small gasp as Henry, red faced and sweating came within an inch of Emily’s face.

“You will do as I command. Do you understand me you ungrateful little bitch?” her father shouted, breath reeking of eggs and coffee and cigars.

The cars drew to a halt on the gravel before Winterfell and Emily nearly flung herself from the still running car.

“Get back here, young lady!” Henry shouted, trundling from the car.

“Rob!” she shouted, flinging herself into his arms.

“Let go of my daughter, Lord Northland. She is no longer yours.”

“He’s made an arrangement with Lord Rivers. I’m to marry him instead. Please, Rob. Do something.”

Rob stepped down from where he stood, moving Emily carefully to his side.

“Rob.”

“Emily, please,” Catherine said, hoping Rob would explain himself.

“Mr. Morgan, unfortunately it will be impossible to break our marriage contract.”

“Lord Northland, I may revoke my offer at any time prior to the wedding. Since no wedding has taken place, I am free to make other marital arrangements.”

“No, sir, I fear you misunderstand me. Lady Emily is not free to enter into another marriage.”

Henry spluttered and stammered, face blotchy red, “I don’t understand your meaning.”

“The Lady Emily and I are married in all ways except by the laws of man.”

“Rob, no!” Emily shouted, eyes wild as she took in the stunned looks from Anna and Sarah, from the servants, from her parents and Catherine.

“Do you mean to say my daughter…”

“That is precisely what I mean to say, sir. And I am most certain that Lord Rivers will have no desire to take a young woman to his bed that has already shared hers with another.”

A ripple of whispers passed through those gathered there and Emily wanted to run, wanted to hide and never return.

“You are a scoundrel, Northland,” Henry said, apoplectic.

“Hardly, sir. It is an old Northland tradition that the newly betrothed couple might lay together. A marriage contract is as good as a legally binding contract in my family.”

“This is….this is outrageous!” he shouted, rounding on Catherine. “This was never mentioned in any of our discussions! This is…this is the peak of utter insolence and disrespect! Your son, madame, is a charlatan and not worthy of the title of Lord.”

“Mr. Morgan. That is more than enough. For weeks we have patiently endeavored to ignore your continued criticisms about our home, our family, our weather, our staff and whatever other complaints you might level. My son is a good, honorable, decent man.”

“He deflowered my daughter!” Henry bellowed.

Mrs. Morgan was crying, hands clutched against her bosom, body racked with heaving sobs.

“And you,” he said, rounding on Emily who hadn’t moved, “You are nothing more than a common whore. Sleeping with a man you are not married to. Did he woo you to his bed with pretty words and gifts? Oh how I wish it was you who had died instead of your brother,” he said, voice low and menacing.

“That is enough,” Rob said, each word clipped with anger, “You will apologize.”

The older man huffed. “I shall not. She has brought shame to her parents and our good name.”

“She is the very best thing about your wretched family,” Rob shouted, “She is good and patient and kind and decent. You are not worthy of her.”

Morgan’s face went purple and with a jerk he turned to his wife, “Get in the car, Amelia. We’ll stay in the village until this is all figured out. The guttersnipe can stay here.”

Mother and son exchanged a glance as the car jerked and halted and jerked again before pulling away. Everyone else pretended to have been busily occupied with luggage and the flowers at the front of the house. And when Rob turned to the steps, anxious to go to Emily, he found she was gone.

******

Tip toeing into the room she’d stayed in these last weeks she carefully shut the door behind her and fell onto the bed.

Tears stung her eyes, rolling down her cheeks and onto the comforter.

She couldn’t imagine why Rob would say something so patently untrue. Had he meant to embarrass her? To dishonor her? She wanted to ask why but was afraid of what the answer might be. Instead she crawled off the bed, searching the closet for her small suitcase. She wouldn’t be able to fit everything but she could at least start. It would only be a short while before Lady Catherine came to inform her that the marriage was called off and she would need to leave immediately.

A light rap at the door and she exhaled slowly. She would do this with dignity. No matter what his mother believed she knew the truth and wouldn’t let anyone treat her badly as a result of Rob’s lies.

Opening the door she saw Rob and nearly shut it once more but he placed a hand on the door frame, pushing it open and stepping inside.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asked, gesturing to the pile of folded blouses on the bed.

“I imagine your mother doesn’t wish to have a woman of such loose morals marrying her son or spending time with her daughters. So yes, I’ll gather my things and be on my way.”

“Where will you go?”

“I have no idea. Perhaps the Reverend Ames has need for a scullery maid. Surely someone could use another servant.”

“A fine plan though I imagine it will be hard for you to find employment in the village as Lady Northland.”

“Why? I can work hard. I don’t mind. It’s not as if I have many options available to…did you just say Lady Northland?”

Rob smiled gently, “Yes, Lady Northland. If you’ll still have me.”

“Why would you say that to my father? We’ve never…I know the other night at Jon’s was most improper but we’ve never…” she began, trailing off.

“It was the only thing I could say that might prevent a marriage between you and Lord Rivers. I took a gamble.”

“You gambled by suggesting I had already…spent the night with you,” she hissed, “What if it hadn’t mattered? What if your mother thinks I’m some sort of wanton woman? My father already thinks I’m a whore!”

She was slamming her fists against his chest, over and over and over again.

“Look at me, sweetheart. Please. Emily. Stop. Just look at me,”

Yanking her hands from his, breathless and gasping she looked at him.

“My mother doesn’t think any less of you.”

“But how do you know? She certainly looked shocked when you slandered me and my reputation.”

“She knows it’s not true because she is the one who suggested it as a possible plan. If she looked shocked it was because she didn’t think we’d need to use it so soon and certainly not in front of a crowd.”

“Your mother…I don’t understand. Why would she…”

“In truth it is a longstanding Northland tradition dating back generations when marriage contracts were made and broken with the rising and setting of the sun. Men would sign the contract and then steal into the bride to be’s chambers, effectively ensuring other agreements could not be reached. It worked well for a long time but the practice went out of fashion sometime during the 19th century. No one’s quite sure when exactly but it hasn’t been the method of forcing a wedding for many years.”

“So this is your plan? Embarrass me? Embarrass my parents? Now I have no choice but to marry you. No one will want me now!”

He took her shoulders in his hands, forcing her to look at him.

“No one else will have you because you are mine. Do you understand me? You belong with me. Not with some other foppish young fool and certainly not with Walter Frey.”

“But you…you have shamed me,” she whispered.

“And I am most sorry for doing so, sweetheart. I had hoped that if it was a tactic I needed to employ that i would have been able to do so in private.”

She sniffled indelicately, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“My father will certainly take his fortune with him now.”

“And if he does, he does. We’ll manage. But Mother believes he’ll pay, if only to spare himself further embarrassment. I regretfully must tell you that your parents seem more concerned with acquiring a title for their daughter and by extension for themselves than they do with making a good match.”

“They hate me,” she said softly, “They’ve always hated me.”

Rob’s heart broke for her. How could anyone not adore this woman?

“They couldn’t wait to be rid of me and now they are,” she finished, eyes filled with unshed tears.

“The loss is theirs, sweetheart.”

Emily sunk into the armchair by the window. Her parents had never been ones to dote on her and while her every need had been provided for, it was always with the knowledge that Amelia and Henry Morgan had been doing so for the sake of appearances and in the hopes of marrying her off to someone who would bring a title to the family. She’d been raised to be the dutiful wife; gracious, hospitable, quiet, and demure. Try though they had, Emily had never been capable of keeping silent when she thought something was wrong or unjust. She’d been spirited, imaginative, incorrigibly funny, and fiercely independent since she was a child and no matter what her parents had done, they’d been unable to tame her. What the Morgans failed to understand about their daughter was that everything she had done had been in a quest for their love. She’d never stopped seeking their admiration and her brother’s death had only made her try harder, but now she was finished with trying.

“I am sorry, Emily. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Talk with me first, perhaps?”

“There wasn’t time.”

 

“But there was time for you to discuss this with your mother? It has to do with me, my lord, not with her. I would hope that as your future wife you would at least consider the possibility of discussing things with me that might impact you or I. I know she’s your mother and I have no desire to create a wedge between you but I am beginning to feel a bit like an outsider when it comes to matters that directly concern me.”

Rob gave her a sharp glare, “My mother was only trying to help. I seek her out for advice because she was married to my father for nearly thirty-five years and has an understanding of the inner workings of the estate that I do not.”

“Of the estate, my lord. Not of me. She does not have an understanding of the inner workings of me and I’m starting to realize that in all this time we’ve spent together, neither do you.”

“What would you have me do, Emily? Play your father’s game? Allow him to threaten me with the loss of you just so he can gain whatever it is he wants from this deal?”

“I am not a deal! I am not some game to be played between you and he. I am a person with my own thoughts and feelings and desires,” she shouted.

“Well by all means, go marry Lord Rivers. I’m certain he will be most attentive to your thoughts and feelings. He’s only been married three times before this. I’m sure he has a most outstanding grasp of the female mind.”

Her eyes flickered angrily, mouth drawn tight into a narrow line as she rose from the chair and stepped towards him.

“Why don’t you go consult your mother as to whether or not that is the best course of action,” she retorted, knowing she’d hit the target when his jaw tightened.

“Maybe I should let your father marry you off to that miserable old wretch,” he said.

“Fine. If that’s what you want. I’ll just pack my things and be on my way.”

“Good luck getting Rivers to agree to a marriage now that he thinks we’ve consummated ours.”

She slapped him hard. A resounding crack that left her hand throbbing and his face stinging.

“Get out!” she commanded, marching to the door and yanking it back.

“Emily, I…” he began. What had he just done? He was a fool.

“Get out now before I scream so loudly the entire household staff comes running.”

The last thing he saw as she shut the door was her tear streaked face. He may have prevented her marriage to Lord Rivers but at what cost to her? At what cost to them?

*********

“The possibility of a marriage between her and Lord Rivers is dead,” the man said to his companion as they drank from the large mugs before them.

“How do we know that?” the grim faced man across from him asked.

“Northland was heard blurting out something about an old family custom where couples consummate the relationship before the wedding vows so there could be no going back on it.”

“And how do we know that’s true?”

“We don’t. There’s no evidence to suggest it’s true but there’s also none to suggest that it isn’t. Either way it seems hard to believe that old man Rivers will wed her once he finds out.”

“Good, good. Anything about whether the marriage contract with Morgan will go through as planned?”

“The Morgans are currently holed up in the inn down the street. Rumor has it that his lordship and the lady to be are not speaking.”

Grim face raised an eyebrow, “Any idea why not?”

“None. It seems there was an argument of some kind and it’s been close on two days since they were last seen together. The young lady is said to have imprisoned herself in her rooms.”

“Excellent. Send for Royce. I’d like to have him finish this job once and for all.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Plots and machinations.

Morgan’s demands had arrived with the morning post. A wedding within the fortnight, a quarter less money than had originally been offered due to suffering “extreme emotional duress,” and the conditions Rob found most audacious; that Emily immediately be given all of the jewelry belonging to the Countess of Northland and that Catherine vacate Winterfell and retire to her life as the Dowager Countess before the newlyweds returned from their honeymoon.

“These conditions are absurd!” he stormed, stalking around his study.

“But they are his conditions, Rob. Like them or not.”

“A wedding in two weeks’ time? How are we to manage that?”

“You know the wedding details have been seen to for weeks and it was only Emily’s injury and Jon’s ball that prevented it from happening sooner. A fortnight is more than enough time to make the final preparations.”

“His demand that you leave Winterfell is…”

“Appropriate. I cannot remain here forever. Not when Emily is rightfully Lady Northland. And while I had hoped to have a bit more time to prepare, it would have happened eventually.”

“But your jewels? And what about Sarah, Anna, and Bran?”

“The things that are mine, truly mine, I will be able to take. He only means the things handed down from one countess to the next. I shall happily part with them. They’re meant to be worn by your young, beautiful bride. As for your siblings, that will be entirely up to you. I had hoped you would allow them to stay here so they could have as little disruption to their lives as possible but if you and Emily decide you’d like Winterfell to be your own, then we will make other arrangements.”

He couldn’t imagine losing both his mother and his siblings all in one fell swoop but after their argument, he didn’t know where Emily would stand on allowing his sisters and brother to remain.

He mumbled something, glancing out the window as his fiancée walked towards the gardens without even a passing glance.

“You will have to make things right with her unless you intend to begin your marriage infuriated with one another,” Catherine said, following his eyes.

“I would think she would be relieved not to be marrying Rivers. Grateful, even.”

He felt his mother touch his sleeve, “I am certain she is most relieved. I doubt she feels grateful for the methods used to ensure that didn’t happen.”

“You were the one who suggested—“

“I am and I’d suggest it again if needed, only I think that the next time I might have consulted the young lady whose reputation was being called into question.”

He considered her words all the while watching Emily as she weaved in and out of view. They hadn’t spoken since she’d thrown him out the day before and she’d virtually barricaded herself in her room, refusing to join them for meals, and avoiding him as much as possible.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Mother,” he said softly.

“You can. You apologize for hurting her, for failing to consult her.”

“I don’t mean the apology. I mean being married. What if I’m a terrible husband?”

Catherine looked up at her son and saw the babe they’d laid in her arms moments after birth, red faced and squalling. She saw him at four, grim faced and determined to do everything on his own. Again at 13, on the steps of the entry, readying to depart for Eton, his face stoic, his eyes fiercely focused on being strong. At twenty-two when Ned had decided he would marry Rosalind Frey, firmly resolved to make his parents proud. Then at twenty-eight when Ned had died and he’d taken over the management of the estate and the care of his siblings while Catherine had grieved. He had always been her most responsible child, the one who spared everyone his worries and fears and feelings. She wondered now if they had made him lonely and closed off in the process.

“You are wonderful man, Rob. Better than I could have ever hoped for and so much like your father it takes my breath away. The truth is that no one enters a marriage knowing how to do it. If it matters to you then you take time to nurture it, to learn, to listen and understand. It wasn’t always easy between your father and I but we worked at learning to understand each other. Sometimes we were better at that than others, but we never stopped trying.”

“And if she has? Stopped trying, I mean.”

“If she had stopped trying, she wouldn’t still be here,” Catherine said gently, her gaze turning towards Emily who’d paused momentarily and appeared to be looking through the panes of the door.

Rob’s eyes met hers and rather than look away she returned his glance, a small, careful smile on her lips as she gave a small half shrug.

Catherine smiled, patting Rob’s hand, “I don’t think you need to be worried.”

*****

“Your father has sent his terms,” Rob commented finally as they walked along the tree lined path.

He’d met her just beyond the doors of his study, both smiling nervously before she asked shyly if he might walk with her.

“Does that mean he has not withdrawn his offer?” she asked, stomach churning.

“He has not. We must be married within a fortnight and he has cut his financial offer slightly, though not as much as I feared he might. He demands that all of the Countess of Northland’s jewels come into your immediate possession and…”

“And?”

Rob sighed, “He demands that my mother immediately vacate Winterfell and assume the title Dowager Countess so that upon our return there is no confusion as to who is Lady Northland.”

“But Winterfell is her home! He can’t just expect her to leave. Where will she go? What about her servants? And her jewels. I can’t take her things. They belong to her. You have to know that I never asked for this, Rob. When I said what I did last night it wasn’t out of spite or because I dislike your mother, it’s that I…”

He pressed a finger to her lips, “I know. I know none of these requests are yours. There’s a house on the estate. It’s called River Run and it’s where the widow of the Earl lives. Had my father still been alive it’s where you and I would have started our life together. My mother’s ladies maid will follow her there and she will be able to hire new servants or offer positions to the staff here. The jewels are passed down from one countess to the next, so as I understand it, they’ve been in the family for generations. None of them are my mother’s personal belongings.”

 

“But what of Sarah, and Anna, and Brandon? We can’t just kick them out. Though perhaps your mother would rather have them with her than under the guidance of such a loose and immoral young woman.”

“Emily. If I suggested you were wanton in any way then I sincerely apologize. It was never my intention to make you feel as though that is what I thought about you. I should have told you about the plan instead of springing it on you like I did.”

“You hurt me deeply when you suggested I marry Lord Rivers,” she said, eyes filling. 

“I know. I know I did. I shouldn’t have said it at all, not even in jest. I don’t…you have to understand that all of this,” he said, gesturing between them, “is new to me. I’m used to making decisions and sometimes that involves consulting my mother who knows the ins and outs of this estate backwards and forwards. I’m not…I’ve never been good at sharing my thoughts with other people. I’ve always had to be strong and capable and brave on my own. And I wasn’t expecting you. No, I’ve said that wrong. I wasn’t expecting you to care as much as you do. I’d hoped you’d be pleasant and that we might get along and settle into a comfortable routine and over time, maybe our feelings would deepen into friendship or something more. I didn’t dare to imagine that we…that you…that I might feel so strongly for someone I hardly knew and I certainly never thought that you’d care about my family or the running of the estate or anything really other than gaining my title and the entree into London society it would allow you. Damn, I’m making a mess of this,” he said, carding his hands through his hair.

“I’d allowed myself to hope for congeniality and instead you found me in the woods and you took it upon yourself to take care of my tenants but took none of the credit for it and you bested Jon and I at shuttlecock without batting an eye and despite the fact that I am an utter imbecile who made a terrible, terrible choice by exposing you to gossip and slander, you’re still here and I don’t quite understand why.”

“Because I’ve fallen quite in love with you, I’m afraid,” she said softly, blushing under his gaze.

“You’ve…I…”

“I spent a lot of time thinking yesterday, wondering why it would upset me so much that you’d consulted your mother and not me, considering why I felt so betrayed by you suggesting I marry Lord Rivers and the only reason I could come up with was that I love you. I love you and it pained me to feel excluded and it hurt even more to think you no longer wanted me.”

Taking her hands in his own he drew her towards him, pressing a gentle kiss to her mouth before placing another on her forehead.

“I am most sorry for hurting you, Emily. I never…I’m learning. That’s all I can say. I’m learning how to share myself with you.”

She lifted his hands in her own so they were captured between them, “Do you see?” she asked, wrapping her own slender fingers around his larger ones, “You aren’t alone, you don’t have to be brave alone, and you aren’t learning on your own either.”

She kissed his knuckles, squeezing her fingers around the width of his fists.

“Together,” she whispered, meeting his eyes, “We’ll learn together.”

His kiss was soft, tender, communicating the words he wanted so desperately to say but somehow stuck in his throat. 

“You’ll still have me then?” he asked, pulling back from her slightly.

“Yesterday, today, and for a thousand tomorrows.”

Sneaking her around the bend, just out of the sight of the windows and doors he kissed her properly, reveling in her dazed expression when he finally released his hold on her.

“And now, my lady, I believe we have some final wedding details to attend to.”

*****

At the edge of the village there was a slight bend in the road just before the pathway led to the nearby stream that flowed from Winterfell through the village.

A lone automobile idled near the water’s edge and a bicycle leaned against a nearby tree.

“Take this,” the man in the car said, handing a small brown vial to the dark haired gentlemen standing at the side of the car.

“Should it be done at the party?” the young man asked.

“That would be best. More potential suspects, not unheard of to bring in additional staff for these types of affairs, really it all makes the most sense.”

“And for me?”

“Once the job is satisfactorily completed there will be a nice job for you as foreman at the mill and a small apartment as well. Plus the agreed upon final payment.”

He gave a nod, tucking the envelope inside the pocket of his coat.

“Anything else?”

The vehicle’s driver shook his head, “Just be sure it ends up in her drink.”

Another nod.

“And Royce, we can’t afford another mistake.”

Royce smiled, “I don’t make mistakes.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: I SOLEMNLY swear that there will be no Red Wedding, no Purple Wedding etc. No one needs to listen to Rains of Castamere on repeat to prepare for the next chapter. I pinky promise.

Winterfell was a flurry of activity with food and floral deliveries, the interviewing and hiring of new temporary staff to assist with the influx of visitors and all the work to be done. There had been dress fittings and the arrival of items purchased for Emily’s trousseau. Emily tried to spend a little time each day in the village, visiting the tenant families and seeing they had what they needed but as the day drew closer, she found herself more and more occupied with wedding details. 

 

“They’ll think I’ve forgotten them,” she’d sobbed to Rob one evening after he’d returned from assessing the progress on the new barns and houses. She’d spent the better part of her day overseeing packing and talking about floral arrangements and felt terribly guilty.

“No, they will not. Sarah and Anna will continue your good work and hopefully by the time we return you’ll be able to visit in their new homes.”

With only five days to go it seemed as though a new wave of relatives or friends arrived hourly. First was Catherine’s younger sister, Eliza, the Dowager Countess Arryn along with her son, Robin, Lord Arryn, a gaunt, pale young man who looked closer to Brandon’s age then the one and twenty she had been told. He was slight, no more than three or four inches taller than the diminutive Emily with a sickly pall and a pinched look. Next to his robust cousins, Emily could see no family resemblance save the same aquiline nose of his mother.

“Cousin Robin is the most unhappy man I know,” Sarah had commented in hushed tones.

“It’s rumored that my aunt is truly the one in charge of the estate. She’s always coddled him as though he was a babe,” Anna had added in a whisper over her tea.

Lord Dreadfort arrived, his eyes as blue and as wild as ever and Sarah spent most of the morning watching him talk with Rob and Brandon. 

 

“Do you think he’ll remember me?” she’d asked Emily as they readied themselves for tea.

“I hardly think he’ll be able to forget you, Sarah.”

It was clear that the young lord had not forgotten the Lady Sarah at all when they were reacquainted in the foyer at last. It was also clear that Rob was watching their every interaction with hawk-like curiosity.

Theo Pyke and his father, “the never expiring Lord Greyjoy” as Rob had quipped were the image of solicitousness and graciousness. Rob had kept Emily close, listening for even the faintest hint of rudeness. He knew Theo’s drink had been laced with something at Jon’s party and his old friend had apologized sincerely and profusely but Rob was loath to let Emily endure any unkindness leading up to the wedding.

“His father is a rather grim old sort, isn’t he?” she’d noted much later.

“Dreadful. He put Theo in charge of the family business years ago but refuses to acknowledge that Theo is actually capable of running the business. Now he’s insisting he won’t die until Theo marries.”

Emily found herself feeling a bit bad for the tall, slender man.

There were a handful of Tully cousins and Catherine’s brother, Edmund, stoically polite and serious. The Stark cousins, while equally polite were a bit more raucous and it was clear that Uncle Benjamin, Lord Edward’s younger brother, was a bit of a trickster much to the delight of Anna and Brandon and to Catherine’s eternal consternation.

Robert Baratheon, Ned Stark’s oldest friend and Rob’s godfather came with his wife, Lucinda. Emily had hoped she and the older woman might find common ground in being American heiresses but Lady Stag was more interested in discussing the latest fashions and gossiping about everyone else in the room.

“That Lord Dreadfort is as mean as a viper. I can’t say for certain but I’ve heard he’s in the habit of challenging men to duels and then keeping a piece of them as a prize” she’d commented to Emily over dinner before turning her scathing commentary to Lord Snowden and the number of women he was rumored to have bedded.

When Rob had been able to steal her away she’d scolded him for leaving her alone with the wretched woman for so long. 

 

“I had to hear all about Jon’s most recent rumored paramour over dinner!”

 

“Who is she saying is his latest conquest?”

 

“A former lady’s maid who was in his mother’s employ.”

 

Rob had laughed, “That rumor has been circulating since we were boys. Most of her gossip is half truths, hearsay, and the retelling of old stories and scandals.”

“And what about Lord Dreadfort? Your sister quite admires him. Am I meant to keep silent about this proclivity of his for keeping a…memento of his wins?”

Rob had grown serious then, “That story is a new one that I have not heard before. Dreadfort’s long had a reputation for being a bit…brash. I will find out what I can about that. In the meanwhile, say nothing to Sarah. We don’t want to give the appearance of spreading gossip ourselves.”

Lord Rivers groused his way through a barely civil greeting while his sons and daughter had stood nearby in quiet embarrassment. His invitation had not been rescinded in an effort to put all speculation about who Emily would be marrying.

Lord and Lady Payne had arrived bearing beautiful French lace and a case of the finest wine from Bordeaux. Emily had been surprised to learn they lived only a village away as they had spent most of Lord Snowden’s party detailing their most recent trip through France. 

“And I hear you and Lord Northland will be honeymooning in Italy,” Lady Payne had said to Emily.

“Yes. We’re leaving the day after the wedding.”

“Marvelous! Have you been before? No? Oh, I do hope that you would permit Lord Payne and I to provide you with a list of our favorite haunts.”

“That would be most kind of you, Lady Payne.”

“Please call me Brienne. I had rather hoped we might become better acquainted, Lady Emily.”

Emily had heard the whispers and snickers at Jon’s celebration. She knew people found the statuesque woman with her short hair and even shorter husband to be utterly puzzling. She was an exotic bird to them. She didn’t fit into the round hole society expected her to fill. Instead she lived her own life and Emily admired her for it.

Lord Vale appeared one morning at the breakfast table, startling Emily and causing Grey to bark the entire house awake. His apologies were profuse; he’d arrived late the previous evening after the house had gone to bed and rather than disturb anyone, had been taken straight to his room.

“I’d quite forgotten how dreadful these last weeks have been for you, dear girl,” he’d said, kneeling before Emily who had sat in a nearby chair to catch her breath.

“It’s quite…I’m well, Lord Vale. I was just surprised to find a man in the room.”

“As you would be, my dear. No one would expect you to be alone in a room with a man,” he’d said, a touch too knowingly for Emily’s liking.

Rob had liked hearing it repeated to him even less and after ascertaining that Vale had, in fact, arrived well after midnight and had been taken to his room by the butler, he relaxed only long enough to greet the older man.

Jon’s arrival that afternoon wiped away the memories of the morning.

“You look radiant, my lady,” he’d said, kissing Emily’s hand.

“Jon, we’re so pleased you could be here.”

“Well, it’s not every day your dearest friend and cousin gets married. Someone needs to serve as the best man,” he teased, punching Rob on the arm.

“Easy, Snowden or I’ll rethink my decision,” Rob said, shoving his cousin playfully.

There had been no doubt that Jon and Brandon would stand up for Rob and Emily was delighted to have the sweet and funny Lord Snowden standing beside her fiance.

“Bested anyone at shuttlecock lately?” Jon asked.

“Hardly a moment to spare, I fear.”

“Well, once you’ve returned from your honeymoon we’ll have to see about arranging a rematch. Won’t we Rob?”

Emily fluttered her eyelashes coyly, “I’m sure that could be arranged though I warn you, you may wish to begin practicing now.”

Jon was still staring at her back as she entered the house.

“I told you she was a hellion,” Rob said, clapping Jon on the back.

Emily and Rob had spent a long time discussing how to handle the welcome of Lord and Lady Westeros. Uninviting them had not been an option unless they wished to be shunned from society and keeping Emily from greeting them would be seen as a slight and a sure indication they still believed Westeros had been involved in her injury in some way. Instead they’d agreed that both of them, along with Lady Catherine, Sarah, Anna, and Brandon would be in attendance.

Lord Westeros was pleasant enough, complimenting Catherine on arranging such a lavish celebration, politely greeting Emily, remarking on the beauty of Sarah and Anna and how much Brandon had grown since they’d last met, and cordially extending his hand to Rob who managed to smile long enough to mask his disdain and suspicion.

Lady Cecily on the other hand minced no words.

 

“This wedding has been hastily done, Lady Catherine. No, that’s right, it’s the Dowager Countess now, isn’t it? A pity really. Still so many good years left to you.”

 

Her gaze shifted to Emily, “Pretty thing,” she commented, looking Emily up and down. Are those your parents?” she’d asked, pointing to the Morgans who were bustling from one group of nobles to another.

At Emily’s nod she had sniffed, “Remind me to stand down wind of the nouveau riche, my love,” she said to her husband before turning back to Rob and Catherine, “I hope marrying an American heiress just to keep the estate is worth the trouble,” she’d finished before moving along.

“Utterly detestable,” Rob had whispered as they walked away.

As it turned out the animosity between Lannister and Stark went back several generations, all the way to Rob’s great grandfather. There had been a battle that the Lannister ancestor claimed credit for winning, despite the fact it had been a victory of the Starks. The King had given the Lannisters a dukedom. A slight the Starks never forgot. The next generation had fought over women and when the maiden in question had married the Stark heir, the Lannister heir had vowed to bring the Starks low. The rift grew furiously in the hearts of their sons and in a deal that should have made Ned Stark a much wealthier man, Tyrone Lannister had instead managed to nearly bankrupt him. Now it seemed their sons would carry on the family tradition.

Having the Lannisters beneath the same roof made Emily anxious and not even Grey’s nightly presence outside her door or Jon’s gentle reminder that he’d discreetly posted some of his own men in and around the estate could allay her fears. The wedding was in two days. She needed to rest or she’d look a wreck and more than anything she wanted to be beautiful for Rob. Sleep came in fits and starts and it was only when she opened her door and ushered Grey in, letting him sleep at the foot of the bed, that she managed to get more than a few minutes of sleep.

*****

Royce rolled over quietly, barely daring to breathe, to move, to do anything that might stir his roommate. Getting the job at the estate had been easy. He came with excellent references, indicated that he could make himself available for several weeks after the wedding as well, and a word in his favor from Lord Vale was all it had taken for Lady Catherine to immediately appoint him to service.

He’d been solicitous of the butler, friendly but not overly so to the housekeeper, and he was polite among the other valets. He didn’t fraternize with the female staff in any way that would rouse suspicion, he was neat, fastidious, and on time each day for his assignments. His work was thorough and after only a few days, Pearce had given him an unexpected compliment on the quality and caliber of his service.

When he wasn’t busy at work, he was using his ability to blend in, to go unseen, to gather information about the Lady Emily; when she woke, where she took her meals, what she took at her meals, the amount she drank, her preferences for tea, what color clothes she favored, the way her footsteps sounded coming down a carpeted hall or stairwell, the staff she interacted with, the way she spoke to them, the books she read, the sound of her voice, anything and everything he could use to his advantage.

Rolling back towards the wall he listened to the steady, even breathing of the man in the bed across from his before inserting a finger into the mattress. He’d made the hole the day he’d been hired, sliding the vial into the cushiony material before covering it with the sheet.

Two more days. A small slip of the hand and Lady Emily would be no more. Two more days and he would be his own man, bound to no one, an entire life ahead of him.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Fluff and a little mystery! I PROMISE the wedding and bedding will be LOVELY!

Emily carefully opened the drawers of the large chest. Rings and bracelets, earrings, necklaces, brooches made of every type of metal, inlaid with sapphires, rubies, emeralds, pearls, and diamonds. Every piece more exquisite than the last. Rob had returned from his trip to London a week earlier with the chest and Emily had known exactly what it was.

“I don’t…I’m not comfortable with taking these from your mother,” she’d said when he’d beckoned her to his study and opened the chest.

“They aren’t hers. Well, they were, but only in a manner of speaking. Some of these pieces date back several generations and they pass from the former Lady Northland to the current Lady Northland. So someday, perhaps, you may be passing them onto your own daughter-in-law.”

“But they’ve still been in her possession all this time,” she balked.

“And you never have to wear any of these jewels if you don’t wish to do so. But at the very least, I want you to know they are at your disposal.”

Emily had agreed and when the chest appeared upon the dressing table in her closet, she’d done her very best to ignore its presence. It was only at Catherine’s gentle insistence that she would be flattered to see the newest Lady Northland wearing something from the collection that Emily allowed herself to pick a necklace and earrings for her final meal as Emily Morgan.

Seated beside Lord Snowden at dinner she couldn’t help but watch Sarah as she flirted with Lord Dreadfort who was returning her every smile, glance, and quip with one of his own.

“Rob mentioned what you’d heard to me,” he said, voice low as he sipped his wine.

“He makes me anxious. And I know I’m wary and suspicious of everyone these days but there’s something about him that’s just not…right.”

“The Dreadforts have always been a strange lot. Rumors about interesting medical remedies swirled around this Lord Dreadfort’s father, the grandfather was plagued with mental illness that left him unable to speak, and now this piece of information. I think you’re both right to have concerns.”

“You will keep an eye on her…on all of them while we’re away, won’t you?”

Jon placed a hand over her own, squeezing gently.

“You have my word.”

Their attention was drawn to a small commotion at the end of the table where Lord Rivers was face to face with Lord Greyjoy and the two men sat bickering over trade. Emily smiled gratefully at Lady Payne who somehow managed to segue the conversation into one about travel.

Anna was chatting enthusiastically with Lord Payne about horses while Robert Baratheon held court at the other end of the table. Lord Westeros was seated beside Lady Arryn and was doing his best to engage her in conversation while Lord Robin looked on sullenly.

Lady Westeros made no effort to hide her obvious disdain at having been seated between Lord Theo and Emily’s father who was making a fool over himself at having been seated beside such a noble lady.

Lord Vale was whispering to Lady Catherine and Lord Edmund was looking rather perplexed trapped as he was between Lady Lucinda and Emily’s mother. Rob was in deep conversation with his Uncle Benjamin but every so often would glance up to catch Emily’s eye, smiling as he did.

 

“You’ve softened him,” Jon said.

“I’ve softened who?” Emily asked, blushing at Jon catching her staring openly at her fiance.

“Your husband to be.”

“Oh don’t say that. Men never like to be told they’re soft.”

“Well then may I see you’ve helped bring him back to us?”

Emily fumbled with the edge of her napkin, “I don’t think…”

“No, it’s true. When my uncle was sick and dying Rob withdrew from all of us. I think it was a way to protect himself, his way of staying strong for everyone else. But I’ve seen him smile more these last weeks than I have for a long time.”

One of the footmen interrupted momentarily to ask if either Lord Snowden or Lady Emily required a refill on their drinks and both declined politely.

“Thank you, Jon, for saying so. I hope I’ll continue to make him happy.”

“I hope you’ll both be happy together,” and with that he pushed back from the table, gently tapping the side of his champagne flute and offering a toast of thanks to his aunt as well as one to Rob and Emily.

There was a great deal of applause and cheering and Rob beamed at Emily from across the table as dessert was brought out. Plates with lemon tarts were placed in front of each guest and the footmen bustled around offering drinks and removing anything that was no longer needed. Conversations resumed and Emily couldn’t help but notice the disdainful look on Lady Westeros’ face as she sniffed at the tart before her. It made her all the more determined to eat every bite of her own.

As the men headed towards the study for their cigars and brandy, the ladies made their way to the sitting room for tea and cards and Rob managed to take Emily by the elbow just before she stepped over the threshold.

“May I have a word, my lady?”

“Of course, my lord.”

He led her down the hall and into the library, gently shutting the doors behind him.

“I don’t think it’s wise for us to be alone together, my lord. At least not on this night.”

“I think it’s perfectly fine, sweetheart. At this point, no one would begrudge a man a few moments alone with his fiancee,” he said, cupping her face in his hands.

“Mmm, I suppose,” she whispered right before he pressed his lips to hers.

“I have missed you,” he said against her ear, kissing the side of her face and down the graceful slope of her neck.

“Rob,” she sighed.

“I know, I know. I’ll have you all to myself tomorrow,” he said, his blue eyes gazing into hers.

Emily shivered; the prospect of being alone with him, well and truly alone left her thrilled and nervous all at once.

Stepping away from her reluctantly he headed towards the small writing desk in the corner, pulling open the drawer and withdrawing something from inside before turning back to her.

“I need…no, I want to ask you something. It’s important and I shouldn’t have waited so long but everything has been so…chaotic that I just…well, would you marry me?” he asked, withdrawing something from a small velvet pouch.

Unfurling his fingers Emily looked into his palm, gasping softly before looking up at him.

“It was my grandmother’s and she left it to me to give to my bride to be someday. And I should have asked properly from the very beginning but nothing about this has been done properly so I…”

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she said, pressing a finger to his mouth.

He slid the delicate band with its center diamond onto her small fingers, exhaling when it fit.

“It should have been the very first thing I did after meeting you and I’ve had it to give to you and the timing just never seemed right and more than anything I wanted to do this properly,” he rushed out.

It was Emily who kissed him silent, wrapping her arms around his neck to draw him close.

“It’s perfect,” she said, pulling back to look at him.

“I love you, Em. More than I ever imagined I could or would. I love you and want to spend the rest of my life making you happy.”

“I love you, too.”

A light rap on the door sounded and Rob called out to enter. It was Jon looking embarrassed.

“I’m sorry to tear you apart but the rest of the gentlemen are waiting to take you over to Riverrun for a bit of bachelor frivolity and I believe your mother is looking for you, Lady Emily.”

“Muttering about my loose morals I’m sure,” she said.

“Two minutes, Jon. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

Jon nodded, winking at Emily before shutting the door.

They stood forehead to forehead, her hands clasped in Rob’s.

“I’m not sure I can wait until tomorrow afternoon to see you again,” he said.

Emily smiled, “Somehow I think your cousins and friends will help you while away the hours.”

“You will be alright tonight, won’t you?”

She nodded, “I’ve got Grey and the Crows are out there prowling about in the dark and heavens knows Lord Vale always manages to be about whenever there’s trouble.”

“Don’t even tease.”

“I’ll be fine. I promise. Just look for the girl in white tomorrow.”

“I’m sure she’ll be very easy to locate,” he said.

“Right at the back of the Church.”

He kissed her softly, “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, my lord.”

They shared a brief, final parting kiss before Jon was knocking a second time.

After waving them off from the front door Emily went in search of her mother.

*****

Cecily awoke in the dark, a thin sheen of sweat covering her body, her stomach in knots. Rushing to the adjoining bathroom she wretched up the contents of her dinner again and again until there was nothing left in her. It certainly wasn’t her idea of an enjoyable way to spend a night but if it meant she could miss tomorrow’s ridiculous festivities then she’d bravely endure it.

*****

Royce had been told to turn down all the lamps and as he made his way through the West Wing he repeated the names of each person assigned to each room, Rivers, Baratheon, Tully, Stark. The older gentlemen had returned to the estate a little after 2 in the morning while the younger lads continued to celebrate the groom’s last night at Riverrun. A door opened and Royce stepped back into the shadows of the hallway watching as a woman in a white gown, her face obscured by her long auburn hair, rushed down the corridor and right past him. He heard the snick of the door shutting once more and peering into the near dark he noted which room the woman had left.

What could Lord Vale want with Lady Catherine at this hour? And more importantly, why would Lady Catherine agree to meet with him alone in his bed chambers?


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Fluffy fluffiness, something wicked this way comes (I promised no Red or Purple Wedding, people!)

Sunlight streamed through the window, alighting on Emily’s empty bed. Two trunks, several hat boxes, and a small valise sat upon the rug awaiting transport to the train station. A maid flitted in and out of the room with new sheets. A second maid followed behind, dusting the room and polishing every wood surface until it gleamed.

Down the hall Emily had gathered with Sarah and Anna in her new chambers, rooms which adjoined Rob’s and where she would begin her life as Lady Northland after returning from her honeymoon.

She’d been awake since 5, heart racing in her chest as her nerves took hold in her stomach. It had taken nearly half the morning just to begin getting ready; breakfast where she’d eaten some toast and dipped a cup of tea, a long bath, washing her hair and then the interminable process of drying it and pinning it up so it would last the afternoon and evening. Mrs. Morgan came briefly to ensure her daughter still intended to act like a virginal bride to be even though she was not one and after critiquing her daughter’s chosen hairstyle and her simple yet pretty makeup, and with Emily on the verge of tears, Catherine had ushered the woman from the room.

A little after eleven one of the footmen arrived bearing a tray of finger sandwiches and Emily nibbled at a cucumber sandwich while Sarah had her lady’s maid fix her hair for the second time and Anna snuck sandwiches when she thought no one was looking.

“I’m never getting married,” Anna announced, “All this work for a few hours?”

“Anna! It’s Emily’s wedding day! Of course she wants to look lovely.”

Anna rolled her eyes, “She always looks lovely. I don’t see why Rob would think she looked any less pretty if she didn’t wash her hair or apply rouge!”

“Because,” Sarah hissed, voice dropping several octaves, “it’s her wedding night, too.”

Emily found herself blushing. She didn’t want to discuss this with anyone let alone Rob’s sisters.

Sarah’s rebuke kept Anna quiet until a knock on the door rang out.

“It’s Jon!” Anna exclaimed in delight.

Entering the room Lord Snowden looked dashing in his grey morning coat and pants.

“Ladies,” he greeted, “I come with a gift for the bride.”

They had not discussed exchanging gifts before the wedding and Emily felt guilty. His gift was tucked away in her overnight bag.

“Oh what is it?” Sarah asked eagerly, eyeing the box Jon held out to Emily.

“I don’t know. I’m just the messenger,” he said, winking at Anna.

Emily’s hands trembled ever so slightly as she undid the green ribbon, letting it slide to the floor by her feet when she lifted the top of the box.

Sarah clapped in delight. She’d helped her brother narrow down his selections and was thrilled he’d chosen the pearl and diamond earrings she had selected.

Anna peered over Emily’s shoulder, mouth slightly agape at the gift.

“These are…they’re beautiful, my lord,” she said to Jon, “Please tell Lord Northland that I am most thankful for this very generous gift.”

Jon bowed as Catherine entered the room, shooing him out and reminding him to make certain they were not late to the church.

“Those are very pretty,” Catherine said, noticing the box in Emily’s hand.

“Yes, very.”

“The very first of your own jewels, Lady Northland.”

Emily blushed. It was hard to remember that she would be Lady Northland in just a few hours.

“Now, I have just the thing to complete your bridal attire,” Catherine said as she motioned towards a box on a nearby table.

Anna handed it to her mother and the older woman slid the deep blue lid off, revealing the exquisitely detailed tiara within.

“This tiara belonged to my great grandmother and every bride in my family has worn it on her wedding day for generations. One day Sarah and Anna will wear it and perhaps, God willing, I’ll live to see my own granddaughters say their vows in it as well. But for today, Emily, I had hoped you would wear it, both as a symbol of joining our family and as a sign of the love that I, that we all, bear for you.”

“Lady Catherine, this is…I’m…thank you. Truly. This means so much to me. I’m…just thank you for welcoming me into your family. All of you,” she said, looking from Catherine to Sarah to Anna.

As her lady’s maid put the finishing touches on Emily’s hair, Sarah and Anna helped to hold the dress so she could step into it. The tiara, it’s diamond studded leaves glittering in the early afternoon sun, followed and at long last the veil, with its intricate detailing, was pinned into her hair.

Her parents sat grimly in the waiting car and had it not been for the reassuring smile of the driver and the kind words from Pearce, she might have asked to ride with Lady Catherine instead. But this was her wedding day and she would not let them ruin it.

*****

Rob’s pacing had grown frantic, twisting his hands he kept peering out the window that overlooked the street and Brandon began to worry he might leave a hole in the already worn rug.

Jon appeared in the small room a moment later, clapping Rob on the back, “She looks stunning. And she loved your gift.”

“And she was well?” he asked.

“Very. Your sisters were with her and your mother came in as I was leaving. Gray was positioned just outside the door. Anyone wanting to harm her would be hard pressed to do it today.”

Rob looked at his cousin, his face slightly panicked, “And you’re certain she’s coming?”

Jon grinned, “She’ll be here.”

The pews of the Church were filled, guests talking in hushed tones as Reverend Ames made his way around, greeting old faces and new. The noble families gathered in their finest silks and suits. From the doorway Rob caught sight of Rosalind Frey, in conversation with Lord Dreadfort. He hadn’t wanted to marry her but he’d been young and foolish and proud and utterly relieved when his father had put an end to it. Still, he felt badly that it had ended in the way it had and even worse for the young girl who suffered as a result.

Robert and Lucinda were as near to the front as they could be without taking seating from the family. Lucinda’s eyes were darting about and Rob could almost hear her mental notes. Lord and Lady Payne were in quiet conversation with his Uncle Edmund and Lord Rivers was grumbling to a beleaguered looking Theo. 

A car door shut in the distance and there was the soft murmuring of the congregation before Reverend Ames appeared, smiling happily.

“My lord, it is time,” he said.

******

Her hand was shaking as the driver assisted her out of the car, the hem of her gown and veil carefully draped over her arm. Her mother and father lumbered to the door and Emily was nearly bursting with relief at the idea of being free of them in only a few minutes. Her father had spent the ride over cursing the English, their infernal manners, the constant rain, their lack of modern necessities, and the appalling way they raised their children.

“I know it will be hard for you, but please endeavor to raise your own children with the same kind of morals and values that you were raised with, Emily,” her mother had said and Emily had nearly smiled. The very last thing she hoped for her children was for them to be anything like her parents.

Emily had neither smiled nor agreed but sat quietly, hands in her lap, gaze downcast. Not much longer now.

She felt a fleeting moment of sadness when her father offered his arm. She had always wanted his love and nothing she did or did not do made her capable of gaining it. No, she thought to herself, she would not go down this road today. Think about Rob. Rob’s smile, his eyes, the feel of her hand in his.

The trembling subsided as she thought about his warm, strong hand taking hers and she smiled at Sarah and Anna as they stepped into the doorway before making their way down the aisle.

There was a small ripple of approval as Emily and her father reached the door and she caught sight of a smiling Lady Payne before her eyes landed on Jon who beamed at her. Rob continued to face the Reverend,in a tradition of not seeing the bride that dated back to the earliest days of arranged marriages. Catherine’s face was lined with tears though her smile spoke her delight. Brandon grinned encouragingly and Sarah and Anna both gave her small nods as she drew near.

Rob turned at the very last moment, stiffly taking her hand from Mr. Morgan who took his final chance to whisper something about “lacking in decorum” before he moved to his seat.

“You are a vision,” he murmured, drawing her hand snugly into his own.

Blushing, Emily met his eyes, nerves causing her to falter for half a second before she exhaled and allowed Rob to lead her up the step to where the Reverend waited.

*****

When the vows had been spoken and the wedding band had been placed on Emily’s finger, Reverend Ames had asked them to bow their heads for the final blessing before pronouncing them husband and wife.

Rob drew her into his arms, kissing her softly. It was a chaste kiss, his fingertips brushing the soft skin of her cheek as he took her hand in his own.

“You shaved,” she whispered, noting the softness of his face for the first time.

“I thought I should for the wedding.”

“It’s just…I rather liked it.”

Rob grinned at her shy confession.

“Well then I’ll work on growing it back,” he promised, kissing her knuckles as the congregation applauded.

******

Jon was studying Lord Dreadfort from the corner of the room where he’d positioned himself to watch the wedding dinner. Dreadfort was all solicitous smiles and courtly manners, squiring Sarah about the room, bringing her champagne, standing behind her with great propriety when she sat. Something about him left Jon disconcerted and he resolved to invite his aunt and cousins for a visit while Rob and Emily were away.

“Lurking in the corner, Snow?”

Jon turned to find Theo Greyjoy holding out a glass of champagne.

“Observing,” he said, taking the drink, “I hope you’ve been watching your drinks this afternoon.”

“Indeed. And avoiding the bride and groom and anyone else I might offend.”

Jon clapped the man on his back, “Well don’t avoid the ladies entirely. Your father is certain to be watching in hopes of you finding a bride,”

Theo smirked, “I had hoped to speak with Lady Rosalind.”

Jon grinned, turning back to the crowd where Sarah was talking animatedly with Dreadfort. Anna caught his eye, making a face as if she was about to be sick which gave him a chuckle.

“Jon?”

“Hmm?”

“Watch Dreadfort, will you? There’s all kinds of…rumors being whispered about him. Something about him just doesn’t feel right.”

“Walk with me,” Jon said after a brief pause and then began to move in the direction of the doors that led to the garden.

Catherine, sitting at the table closest to her son and his new bride, beamed at the young couple who sat whispering, Rob’s hand holding hers atop the table.

“I hear Lady Westeros is quite ill,” a familiar voice said and she looked up.

“Peter. Yes, Lord Westeros sent her regards. Evidently she’s been quite ill since last evening. I’ve sent for the doctor to attend her.”

“It’s being whispered that she was poisoned.”

“Poisoned! Wherever did you hear that? It’s more likely she ate something that didn’t sit well with her.”

“I overhead two maids tittering about it in the hall this morning.”

“Which maids? I’ll have Pearce address them immediately.”

“I didn’t recognize them. They may have been Lady Westeros’ own maids for all I know. So many new faces about thanks to the wedding guests. It’s just idle gossip among the servants.”

“It’s not silly gossip if others begin to whisper it as well,” she said, eyes searching the room for Pearce.

Placing his hand over hers he smiled, “Today is a day for celebration, Cat. Your eldest son has married, the estate is saved, Sarah seems quite taken with Lord Dreadfort. Before long you may be celebrating a second wedding.”

Withdrawing her hand she watched Sarah glide about the ballroom in the gracefully elegant way she had mastered as a child.

“Peter, now is not the time for…for demonstrating such affections,” she said, eyes never leaving her daughter.

Sighing Lord Vale sat back upon his chair. Age had done the opposite to Catherine, rendering her more beautiful but far more stubborn. In time, he assured himself, in time she would come around.

*******

“You look quite happy, my bride,” Rob said, coming to stand beside a radiant Emily and taking her hand with his own.

“I am most happy, my lord. I’ve married a man I adore, I’ve been welcomed into a family, and in a just a little while I’m going to be free of my dreadful parents!”

Rob caught sight of his new parents by law, noting their all too delighted faces and the way those gathered around them seemed to be only amusing the couple as the parents of the bride.

“To be honest, I’d rather hoped we might be free of all the guests,” he said, voice hushed as he stroked his thumb over the palm of her hand.

Emily’s face flushed and her skin began to burn where he was touching her.

“Rob, you shouldn’t–” she began as the sound of a throat clearing startled her.

“Lord Northland, Lady Northland,” the young man greeted, bowing slightly, “I came to express my congratulations and well wishes on your marriage. I do hope you will be most happy together.”

“Thank you, cousin Robin,” Rob said, “We are most grateful for your thoughts and for your presence with us today.”

Emily murmured her own thanks but the way the young man looked at her left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. Sarah and Anna had said he was a strange sort but she’d had little interaction with him up close until this very moment and something about him was most unsettling.

“Mother says you’re traveling to Italy on the morrow?”

“Yes, two nights in Paris and then the train to points South.”

“I’ve heard Rome is rife with criminals. Best to watch for pickpockets looking to swindle the unknowing,” he said, meeting Emily’s eyes with his own brown ones so lacking in any emotion they seemed nearly lifeless.

Emily shivered slightly, clutching Rob’s hand a bit more tightly and he looked at her questioningly.

“Yes, thank you for that information. We’ve heard much the same from others as well. We’ll be sure to be quite careful.”

“Do you intend to take a man with you?” Robin asked.

“I don’t think–”Rob started, stopping as his aunt approached.

“Robin, my sweetling, you mustn’t take too much of the bride and groom’s time. They have an entire room full of guests waiting to speak with them,” Eliza said to her son.

“Yes. Oh, of course. Yes. Forgive me, cousin, for taking up so much of your time with my nonsense about Rome. I’m sure you’ll be careful and watchful. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to your beautiful bride.”

“Robin! Whyever would you SAY such a thing?” Eliza tittered, “Of course nothing is going to happen. Your aunt just assured me they’d be taking a man with them to keep an eye on things after…well, you never can be TOO careful after everything that’s happened of late. I’m sure Rob has taken all of the necessary precautions.”

“Yes, of course,” Rob said, voice clipped, “If you’ll excuse us, I do believe my mother is trying to gain our attention.”

Emily gave a small smile to the mother and son as Rob led her away.

Walking across the room towards Catherine, Emily felt more anxious than she had all day.

******

Royce smiled politely at Lady Payne, handing her a new glass of champagne before swiftly removing a set of glasses that had been left on a nearby table. He could see Lady Arryn and her son in deep conversation and he didn’t miss the way old Lord Rivers eyed the exchange. He could imagine the old man was listening in while giving the impression of utter boredom.

Lord Westeros was politely conversing with the groom’s uncle who was boisterously laughing and slapping the younger man on the back. A rumor was circulating that Lady Westeros had taken to her bed because of a dose of poison, weakly administered. Although it was possible, Royce believed it was something she had eaten. He’d been most careful. Too careful in fact. There had been no opportunity for him to use his little vial and he was loath to unintentionally poison anyone else and thus arouse suspicion. Perhaps he could figure out a way to be assigned to service at the small estate for the couple’s wedding night. Lord Vale caught his eye, wearing his usual sphinx-like expression. Lady Catherine was in animated conversation with her son and his new bride. Lord Dreadfort was following the Lady Sarah around like a sycophant, making Royce’s skin crawl. There was something off about that man. Lord Snow was laughing with Lady Anna and Lord Theo had joined their little party of two, giving an awkward smile or laugh every now and again. He was another strange one. The more he watched these people, the more he realized it could be almost any of them who were to blame for what was to befall Lady Emily. And that was a very good thing.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW, explicit content, graphic sexual scenes

After Catherine had done what she could to allay Rob’s fears about his cousin and aunt’s uncomfortable conversation he’d pulled Jon aside briefly for a hurried conversation before returning to his bride.

Shortly after bidding farewell to their guests Rob escorted her to the waiting car for the short drive down to the smaller great house where they’d spend their first night as man and wife. Rob had insisted upon the smallest staff possible; Pearce to oversee things, a cook, Rob’s valet and Emily’s ladies maid, two footmen and two maids.

The sun had already set as they began the drive and Emily nestled herself into Rob’s arms, loving the feel of his strong arms and chest against her back and around her own body.

“I have never seen anything as lovely as you today,” he whispered against her ear, delighting in the smile she gave him.

“And you have never looked more dashing. It was nearly impossible for me to reconcile this impeccably tailored man before me with the dirty, half shirtless man I met on a walk one of my very first days here,” she teased.

“As opposed to that wild young woman who rode out to the farms with me, letting her hair loose and losing her jacket and nearly climbing trees.”

Emily smiled up at him, “Did you know then?”

“That you were incorrigible? Yes.”

She elbowed him a bit in the side for that and he tilted her chin up so their eyes met.

“Incorrigible and beautiful and kind and gentle and mine. All mine,” he said, capturing her mouth for a kiss that lingered and teased and promised.

“All yours,” she assured when he pulled away.

River Run, soon to be the Dowager Countess’ new home was a large and stately manor house built to resemble Winterfell on a smaller scale. It boasted many of the same comforts and lushly breathtaking gardens in the spring and summer months. It was only a two mile walk to the big house; a short horseback ride or drive in the car and Emily had immediately felt better knowing her mother by law would be close and in a place wholly familiar to her.

Pearce welcomed them as one of the footmen unloaded Emily’s things and then they were over the threshold and standing in the library studying each other uncertainly.

“Do you…” Rob began as Emily started with, “I think…”

“You first,” he said.

“I just…well, I wondered if perhaps…”

“Emily,” he said softly, filling the small space between them and taking her hands in his own, “Would you like to sit in the garden?”

“But it’s dark.”

“There’s the moon and the stars to light the way and we have each other to keep warm.”

“Rob, I don’t think…”

“Shh,” he whispered, pulling her close in an embrace, “We have all the time in the world. Don’t worry about that right now.”

But she couldn’t help but be worried about that. It was the only thing she’d been able to think about for the last two days and every time he touched her, kissed her, stood near her, all she wanted was for him to do it again.

“You’re worrying,” he said, drawing her down beside him on the small bench in the garden.

“No. I’m not. Truly. I’m just…scared.”

Kissing the top of her head to mask his small smile he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Are you scared of me?”

“No. No, Rob. Of course not. You only scare me when you glower.”

“I don’t glower.”

“Oh but you do! Whenever you talk about Lord and Lady Westeros, when my accident comes up, when someone tells you no.”

Rob chuckled, “Well thank you for drawing attention to my problematic facial expressions. I shall endeavor to better project an image of calm placidity.”

“And I shall attempt to not be scared.”

“Emily, sweetheart, you still haven’t told me what you’re scared of,” he said gently.

“What if I don’t…perhaps I shall be…only, you’ve had much more experience than I where…where conjugal relations are concerned and I’m scared that I’ll fail to please you and that you’ll…you’ll grow bored of me and seek solace in the arms of another woman,” she finished in a rush, worrying her lip between her teeth while refusing to meet his eye.

So there it was; the crux of the problem and the source of her fear. That she would not satisfy him and he would take a mistress. He knew plenty of married men who did. Robert Baratheon was a notorious womanizer, Lord Rivers was rumored to always have a young mistress waiting in the wings for when a wife died, Lord Greyjoy had a wife and at least two paramours. The list went on and on. No one would fault him if he did decide to bestow his affections on another, after all, wives were for bearing children, not bringing happiness in the conjugal bed. Only his father had spent Rob’s entire life devoted to his mother and only his mother. They’d looked at each other like young lovers right up to his father’s final breath and Catherine’s reluctance to remarry had nothing to do with wanting her own independence and everything to do with knowing she’d never share that kind of love with another. His strongest male role model had taught him loyalty and honesty and how to be a husband.

“Sweetheart?”

She looked at him then, eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

“It will only be you, Em.”

“For now. But what happens when I grow big with child and—“

“Today, tomorrow, when you’re with child, forty years from now, God willing. Only you, my darling.”

She kissed him then. A fleeting brush of her mouth before he cupped her cheeks in his hand and drew her back to him. He kissed her hungrily, like a man who couldn’t get enough, one hand pressed now to the small of her back, the other stroking her cheekbone. His tongue ran over the seam of her lips and she parted her mouth to him, letting his tongue tangle with her own. Her hands threaded through the curls at the nape of his neck and when her fingernails scratched lightly he groaned.

“If you’re…”

“Rob, please…”

Nodding for her to continue she asked him to take her to bed and he wasted no time in hauling her into his arms, carrying her straight through the house and up to their adjoining chambers.

“Would you like me to send for Ashton?” he asked, seeing her safely inside her room.

She shook her head. She could manage on her own and truth be told she’d only be more nervous if someone else was in the room while she made herself ready for him.

“I’m right through that door, there,” he said, “But take your time. Come whenever you’re ready.”

*****

He paced, no, prowled, really. Stalking up and down the length of the room, wondering what on Earth was taking her so long? Had she decided against this? Was she too nervous? What if she had climbed into bed and fallen asleep? He should have sent for Ashton. Two more minutes, he promised himself. If she isn’t here in two minutes I’ll go collect her myself.

Emily took a deep breath, brushed her hair back from her face one final time and reached her hand up to knock on the door before remembering she didn’t need to seek his permission to enter.

Instead she turned the knob, heard the click of the door as it gave way and stepped inside.

A fire burned brightly in the fireplace and the curtains had been pulled closed leaving only the flickering firelight and a dimmer lamp to light the room.

His head snapped up at her entrance, breath catching in the back of his throat. Her hair, those long, wavy locks that he’d imagined being able to run his hands through waved loosely over her shoulders. Her nightgown, hardly the prim white gown he’d found her in that night at Jon’s, was sheer enough to leave little to the imagination and his eyes raked over her body starting with her breasts, down to her slim waist, to the dark patch he could just make out at the juncture of her thighs.

“Say something, please,” she whispered, his gaze leaving her unnerved.

“May I?” he asked, reaching out towards her hair.

Nodding she waited for his touch, sighing softly when he captured strands of her hair between his fingers.

It was as soft as he’d imagined and she smelled of rosewater and a hint of peppermint. Her hair was brown but in the firelight there were shades of red and chestnut.

“I didn’t…there is so much of it,” he said, “I never knew.”

“Because I wear it up.”

“Well no more when it’s just us alone. And you most swear to me that you’ll never gamble with it again.”

“A deal is a deal. I would have had to cut it if you and Jon had won.”

“Then make a deal with me,” he grumbled, tangling her hair in his hand, “No more wagering your hair with Jon or anyone else for that matter.”

“But you said no more deals,” she whispered when he was half an inch away.

He kissed her then, the hand in her hair was gentle, his lips against hers were firmly insistent and when he ran his tongue over the seam of her lips she parted her mouth to him and shivered as his tongue met hers.

A warm sensation rushed through her from her chest out to her fingertips and down her chest out through her toes, the tingling seeming to center right in the very core of her body.

His thumbs drew lazy circles on the bare skin of her arms and she pressed herself closer to him, wanting to feel all of him. Her fingers fumbled at the tie of his robe and she stepped back long enough to push the material from his shoulders, biting her lip as it pooled around his feet.

Rob exhaled sharply when her small hands pressed against his chest.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, pulling back.

“No, not at all. You just surprised me.”

Keeping one hand flat on the spot between his shoulder and pectoral muscle she ran her finger through the coarse hair on his chest.

“You don’t look like a sculpture or a painting,” she commented and he arched an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

She shook her head slowly, “They’re always hairless and smooth, it seems almost too…too unrealistic,” she finished, her fingertips marching slowly up his chest before hurtling herself into his arms.

“No statue has ever been so warm,” she whispered against his chest.

“Is that a good thing?”

She nodded. “Very. I shall never be cold again.”

Her fingertips grazed over his nipples as she pulled back to look at him and the low groan of need that came out of his mouth had her perplexed.

“Is that…alright?”

He nodded his assent, watching her as she examined his chest before she moved around him.

“What’s this from?” she asked softly, fingers tracing over a scar just beneath his shoulder.

“I fell off a horse when I was 12, landed on a jagged rock that opened the skin. It could have been—Oh. Em,” he said as her soft lips placed a gentle kiss along the silvery line.

She came around to face him again, looping her arms around his neck and meeting his gaze.

“I love you, Robert Stark.”

“I love you, too, Emily Stark.”

He kissed her then, tangling his hand in her hair, tugging ever so slightly so her neck was exposed for the fiery line of kisses he marched down the column of her throat.

She toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. He had the most delightful curl to his hair and she’d thought many nights about what it would be like to run her hand through the unruly waves.

Somehow her knees bumped the side of the four poster bed that dominated the room and they paused in their kissing only long enough for Emily to slide back on the bed and Rob to follow her, his broad frame covering her completely as he found her lips and captured them with his own.

His hands wandered down the silky film of her gown, finding the hem and dragging it up her thighs until it was bunched at her waist. The silky smoothness of her thighs along with the scent of her arousal caused a jolt straight through him and he slowed for a moment, wanting to remember every single second of touching her and having her near.

“You stopped,” she said, “Did I—?”

“No. Never,” he kissed her, “I’m just trying to capture this…to capture the feel of you in my memory.”

His hands wandered from the delicate bone at her ankle up the smooth softness of her legs and over the creamy skin of her thighs, his ministrations ending at the hem of her nightgown. With a painstaking slowness he pulled the gown up her prone form, stopping to kiss her languidly, as though they had all the time in the world.

Stilling at the flat expense of her stomach, hands fisted in the soft material of her negligee he looked up at her as she nodded her assent. Placing a kiss above her navel he placed a hand behind her back, lifting her near as his other hand drew the filmy fabric over her head.

Blushing beneath his openly lustful gaze at her naked body she moved her hands to cover herself but he stilled the motion with his own hands.

“Glorious,” he whispered, kissing her.

His body hovered above hers and she could feel him, feel the urgent press of his cock against her thigh, feel the heat emanating from his body, smell the crisp, fresh masculine scent of him and she exhaled shakily.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” he asked, nuzzling the side of her neck.

“I don’t…I want something but I don’t know what. I’m…” she stammered as he took her earlobe between his teeth, sucking gently.

She was shuddering beneath him and the desire to push her legs apart and bury himself deep inside of her was driving him half out of his mind. He’d been imagining this moment for weeks. Hell, he’d been thinking about touching her since that very first afternoon on the hill. And now she was here; in his arms and his bed and all he wanted to do was show her how very much he loved her.

“Rob?” her voice startled him from his thoughts, “Will you…I want you to touch me. Here,” she said so softly that had her hand not led his own to her breast he would have asked her to repeat herself.

Her back arched from the sheets when he cupped the full flesh in his palm, his thumb rubbing over the rapidly stiffening peak until she was both pleading with him to stop and begging him to continue in the same breath.

He lavished the other breast with similar attention, finally drawing one rosy nipple into his mouth.

Her gasp of shock quickly turned into a long moan and her hands sought purchase in his curls, her body instinctively cradling his between her legs.

While he licked and nipped and suckled, one hand wandered down her side, across her stomach and down to the downy thatch of dark hair between her legs.

“Rob,” she protested feebly as his hand worked between her legs.

 

“Shh, sweetheart, just let me love you,” he said, nudging her chin up to capture her mouth.

His finger found the slick flesh between her legs and he met her gasp with a low groan of his own.

Stroking over the damp curls at her entrance he continued to tweak her nipple and when he brought his mouth down to the tight bud of her breast, he eased his finger inside her, shuddering at the feel of her walls clenching around him.

He was making her witless; an incoherent, babbling mess of want and her body was overwhelmed by the sensations he was creating in her. Her desire to be proper, docile, the picture of compliance and decorum warred with the feelings his mouth and hands were eliciting. She wanted more. She wanted him closer, to feel every inch of his skin and body pressed to her own, to touch him and know him the way he was touching and learning her now.

“Ohhh Rob,” she sighed as he began to move his finger inside of her. In and out, in and out, each stroke followed by the faintest flickering motion of his finger, almost as if he were searching for something.

Without intending to, his thumb rubbed across the bundle of nerves at her center and she clawed at his arms, shouting his name in a tone that was half pain mixed with pleasure. He repeated the movement, watching her eyes fly open before fluttering shut until he did it again and again and again until she was writhing beneath him, whimpering softly as her head thrashed upon the pillow.

“Easy, my love, easy,” he soothed, brushing the hair from her damp brow.

Their eyes met; his tender and adoring, hers blown wide with lust and wonder and his fingers moved inside of her so perfectly that she felt her breath catch in her throat, felt as though she was floating above her own body, felt something deep and bright and overwhelming snap inside of her until she was spiraling and pinpricks of light appeared behind her eyes.

He watched her climax with a mixture of rapture and more than a bit of pride at having brought her to completion with only his hands. Propped up on his elbow beside her, he traced the lines of her face; her high cheekbones and dainty nose, her lovely almond shaped eyes, the full expanse of her lips as his other hand weaved through her hair.

Her breathing was shaky and she was trembling slightly so he pulled the coverlet over them, drawing her into his warm embrace and kissing the crown of her head.

“Is that…should I…does it always feel that way?” she asked, burying her face into his chest as her cheeks flushed pink.

Pulling back to look down at her he grinned, “I intend to spend the rest of my life ensuring that it always feels that way for you.”

“And for you, too?”

“For me?”

“Well…should it always feel like that for you too? I may not be well versed in what happens between married couples but I do know that there is an expectation of certain…pleasure for a man.”

“Sweetheart, having you here in my arms is the most lovely pleasure there is.”

“But…Rob…I know you aren’t…well, I can…you haven’t been satisfied, my lord,” she said softly.

“Sometimes, my love, the satisfaction lies in knowing that the person you adore most in the world has been made to feel treasured, cherished, and loved,” he said, twining his fingers with her own and bringing her hand up to kiss gently.

“But what if I wish to bring you pleasure as well?” she asked, voice quavering.

Rob bit his lip at the innocence in her voice. She had no idea what she was asking or at least he assumed she did not. She was far too proper to really understand what bringing him pleasure might mean and even though he was desperate to take her he wanted to be gentle and loving and all of the things she deserved.

“Emily…” he began, “I don’t think…oh God, woman,” he muttered as her nails raked over his chest and she nipped at his ear.

“I want to please my husband,” she murmured, pressing her lips to his, giggling as he rolled them so she was beneath him once more.

“Are you certain, my love? We don’t have to…”

“Make me yours, husband,” she breathed out, cupping his face in her small hands.

Hesitating for not a moment longer he stood to remove his pyjama pants, pulling them off and tossing them aside. She was watching him, eyes widening at the sight of him naked and engorged and he covered her body with his own not giving her a chance to begin to worry anew.

His skin was hot against her own and for a moment she worried he might be ill but then she remembered some of what the book she’d snuck from her father’s library had said about arousal and the male response to the sex act.

The hair on his chest tickled her nose and the laugh she started ended with a whimper as he placed himself between her thighs, his cock nestled against her in the most delicious way.

“That feels…it’s…it’s different but in the loveliest way,” she said, wrapping her hands about his arms.

“Yes, lovely,” he groaned, grimacing at the feel of her damp curls rubbing along his shaft.

“Are you quite all right, husband? You look ill.”

“I assure you I am not ill, darling. I’m merely restraining myself from taking you as I please,” he said, voice strangled as she arched her back, pressing them impossibly closer.

“Then do it, please, Rob.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Em,” he said, knowing there was no way to prevent her from feeling pain entirely.

Pressing a kiss to the inside of his elbow she looked up at him, “It will be worth it to be your wife in every way.”

Kissing her hard, he plundered her mouth with his own, tongues tangling, teeth nipping, and pulling away breathless and panting.

Her legs came up around him of their own accord and soon he was rocking against her, one hand frantic at her breasts, his mouth kissing every inch of her sweet skin as he whispered loving endearments into her ear.

Her thighs were slick with arousal and need and his aching cock leaked from its tip as he slid his hands beneath her bum, bringing her closer, opening her legs a bit wider.

His finger teased her opening and he added a second one, stretching her, opening her up for him, reminding her of how much pleasure could be had from this.

She was ravishingly beautiful beneath him, her dark hair wild and unbound upon the pillows, lips swollen from his kisses, cheeks flushed in desire.

“Are you ready, my love?” he asked, searching her eyes.

“Please, Rob,” she said, twining her fingers with his.

Placing himself at her entrance he let himself slide into her, a low groan tearing from his throat. She was so infernally hot and wet and tight. His brow broke out in sweat, concentrating hard on taking it slowly.

Emily bit her lip hard at the unfamiliar intrusion, tears springing to her eyes as Rob inched further inside her.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, pressing his mouth to her own as he surged forward hoping to make the pain last for as brief a time as possible.

He swallowed her whimper of discomfort but felt her nails dig into his upper arms and when he pulled his face back he could see the tears in her eyes.

“It’s…just…don’t move, please,” she said softly and he peppered her face with kisses until she was laughing.

“There’s my Em,” he said, kissing her nose before taking her hand in his own.

He slid deeper when he moved and Emily grimaced for a second before realizing it hasn’t hurt so much as it had been strange. This feeling of fullness, of being connected to Rob in the most intimate of ways, of being totally vulnerable to him was strange and overwhelming and wonderful all at the same time.

He shifted again and her gasp of pleasure was drowned out only by his groan of delight.

“I’m going to move,” he said, peering down at her.

And when he did, hips pistoning forward as he moved in and out of her, it was as if the feelings his fingers had elicited earlier had increased a hundredfold.

She was moaning now, back arching to meet his thrusts and her legs wrapped around his thighs and he knew she had no idea what she was doing but every soft cry of his name, every time her walls clenched and fluttered around his cock, every time their eyes met drew Rob closer and closer to the precipice.

He reached between their bodies finding the little nub between her legs and she wailed loudly when he touched her there. Rubbing soft circles over the nub as he continued to pump in and out of her soon had her babbling incoherently, her face contorted in the most exquisite expression of bliss as she clutched at Rob’s arm and then his hand.

He steadied her, pressing their joined hands to his heart as he thrust again, pressing more firmly on the bud of nerves. He felt the pulsing of her walls, felt the way they clenched and surrounded him, milking him of his seed as he spilled himself inside her. And she was only a moment behind him, his fingers coaxing another orgasm from her.

They were sweaty and spent, breathing heavily, Rob’s arm draped over her stomach, her leg trapped between his.

“I,” he said, rising to look down at her, “have never seen anything more beautiful than you naked and debauched in my bed.”

Her cheeks turned pink at his words and she hid her face behind her hands.

“I’m sorry for being so…”

“Stunning? So amazingly wonderful? So trusting and open and vulnerable with me? Because I am humbled by you, Em. Humbled by your great love for me, by your tenderness, by the way you put me first when it should have been the other way around.”

“You don’t think me too forward?”

“Never, my darling.”

“And it’s…it is proper for us to lay in bed like…this?” she asked, waving her hand to indicate their nakedness.

“I would like it to be proper for us to be like this all the time,” he teased, leaning forward to kiss her, tickling her sides as he did.

Her laughter echoed off the walls and Pearce, doing his final rounds of the evening smiled in delight at her ladyship’s laughter. Lord Northland had always been a serious lad, grown more serious since his father’s death and Lady Emily had brought joy and laughter back to the somber young man. Continuing along his route, something small and dark caught his eye and bending down to examine it he discovered a small brown vial. It was empty of any contents and there was nothing to identify what its contents had been. He’d have to speak to the staff and remind them to be more careful in their cleaning. It must have fallen from a wastebasket or a tray when they had been preparing the rooms for Lord and Lady Northland.

There was another peal of girlish laughter and Pearce smiled again, tucking the vial into his pants pocket. Yes, the new Lady Northland was just the thing for the young master.

Rob pulled away from her with a final kiss, crossing the room and returning a moment later with a washcloth and pitcher of water. Wringing the now wet cloth he parted her legs gently, wiping away the remnants of their lovemaking before returning things to their proper place.

He climbed back into the bed, opening his arms to her and she came without question, nestling into the broad safety of him. Despite the warmth of his body she gave a small shiver and he pulled the covers back over them, grinning at the fact that her face barely cleared the coverlet.

“You never told me you had a scar here along your stomach,” she whispered as her fingers traced the ridge of skin.

“You never asked.”

She pinched his side for that, fingers wandering over his skin.

“What is it from?”

“That is from fencing.”

“Fencing? I thought you used tipped swords to prevent injury?”

“And we did, save for the time I fenced with Geoffrey Lannister who thought it would be most amusing to use a true sword.”

“And he caused this?”

“It could have been much more grievous than it was. Fortunately for me my father came along just as he made the thrust and it wound up being a flesh wound more than anything.”

“You have a long, dark history with these Lannisters.”

“Indeed. It has not always been cordial between our families.”

“Well I detest this Geoffrey for having harmed you.”

He kissed her, his little spitfire, more than a little moved by her fierce protectiveness.

“I assure you that I suffered hardly at all,” he said, “But thank you for your concern.”

There was a long, quiet pause and his hands ran through her hair, combing out tangles, gently soothing her.

“I didn’t give you your gift,” she mumbled tiredly against his chest.

“S’alright,” he said, kissing the crown of her head, “We have all the time in the world.”

Her small hand slipped into his and with a soft sigh she nestled more deeply in his arms.

“I love you, Em,” he whispered, smiling at how deep her breathing had become, how quickly she’d fallen asleep in his arms, how wonderful it was to hold her like this.

She murmured something indecipherable as he kissed her forehead, “Sweet dreams, wife,” he said as his eyes closed and he fell into his own contented slumber.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW, explicit content, graphic sexual scenes

Emily’s eyes fluttered open, momentarily disconcerted by her surroundings until she felt Rob’s hand slide from her hip up to cup her breast, his mouth pressing kisses to her neck.

She sighed, melting back against him, biting her lip as he circled the tight bud of her breast.

“Good morning, Lady Northland,” he whispered into her ear, his voice husky.

“Mmm, it is a lovely morn—Oh, Rob,” she whimpered as he sucked the lobe of her ear into his mouth.

He turned her to face him, kissing her long and tenderly, cupping her face in his hands, his thumbs tracing over her cheekbones.

“How did you sleep, my lady?” he asked, pulling away from her at long last.

“Very well. This bed is extraordinarily comfortable.”

“Quite,” he agreed, “And the covers are so silky to the touch.” His hand ran from her ankle up to her knee and then across her stomach.

“Did I crowd you last night? I’m sorry. I’m not used to sleeping with anyone else and I tend to move around quite a bit and…”

He kissed her silent, “You may crowd me as much as you wish. To be honest, I enjoy having you so near,” he said, sliding down beside her so they could be face to face.

“I enjoy having you so near,” she said, “It means I can kiss you whenever I’d like.” She promptly kissed his nose before brushing her mouth over his. “It means I can run my hands through your hair as I please.” Her hand combed through the wayward curl on his head, her fingernails lightly scratching over his scalp. “And it means we can lay this way without anyone thinking less of us.” She draped her leg over his.

Rob’s groan caught in the back of his throat as she pressed herself against him.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed out, fingers tangling in her hair as he brought his mouth to hers, kissing her long and deeply.

Their tongues tangled and Rob teased her lower lip with his teeth, drawing the most delicious moan of pleasure from her lips.

“Wait,” she said, pushing away from him as he grabbed at her, bringing her back to capture her mouth once more.

“No, Rob, wait,” she said through her laughter, “I want to give you your present.”

“I have a perfect gift right here,” he said, cupping a breast in his hand.

Slapping at his fingers she managed to escape to the edge of the bed, glancing at him over her shoulder.

Groaning he fell back among the pillows, watching as she grabbed for his robe on the floor before walking into the adjoining room.

She returned a moment later, box in hand and came to sit beside him, tucking her legs beneath herself as he sat up.

“You didn’t have to give me anything,” he said, sliding the green ribbon from the box.

“It’s nothing in comparison to your gift,” she blushed.

The larger box held something wrapped in paper and another smaller box beside it. Rob set the small box to the side, opening the tissue paper and looking up at her with a wide grin.

“Did you make this?” he asked and she nodded.

“Emily, this is marvelous. I can’t believe you did all this.”

“Do you like it? I wasn’t sure if you would but I had no idea what else I might give you and I wanted a gift that would mean something and not just be another thing for you to have.”

“This is the loveliest thing anyone has ever given me,” he said, pulling the frame from the box so he could look at it better.

“Is this Grey and I?” he asked, pointing to the drawing to the left of the center picture.

“That’s you and Grey, and here’s Anna with the horses, and this one is Sarah playing the piano. Then there’s Brandon with your father’s tree and your mother in the garden and Winterfell is in the center.”

He marveled at the likeness and details of each drawing, how she’d captured Sarah’s graceful elegance and Anna’s gentle patience. He loved that Brandon had allowed her to sketch him beneath the tree, looking up into its branches. His mother radiated regality and the drawing of he and Grey showed him at his most relaxed and carefree. And there, at the center of it all was his beloved Winterfell; stately and well kept.

“You drew all of this?” he asked in wonder and she gave a nod.

“I adore you Emily Stark,” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss her.

“And it’s truly well done?” she asked, capturing his face in her hands.

“It’s as exquisite as you, my beautiful bride.”

“Don’t forget this,” she said, offering him the smaller box.

His eyes widened in shock and he blinked once, and then twice before understanding what was in front of him.

“This is…it’s…my father’s pocket watch. How did you get this?”

“Your mother found it among her things and said it should be yours. It wasn’t working so I took it to Mr. Evers who evidently has quite the talent for fixing watches and clocks and things. He had it ticking away like new within a day. When I saw your father and grandfather’s initials engraved in the back, I had yours added. And then I added this,” she said, pressing the button at the top to release the panel at the front, “It’s so you can always keep me close.”

The front popped open to reveal the watch on one side and a photograph of Emily on the other.

“Em,” he choked out, “This is…thank you, my love. I’ll treasure this.”

She wiped away his tears, kissing his eyelids.

“You are a good man, Robert Stark. I am honored to be your wife.”

Placing his gifts gently on the bedside table he wrapped her in his arms, seating her upon his lap so he could feast upon her soft skin. The edge of his robe fell off her shoulder, revealing the soft swell of her breast and its pert nipple and his head fell forward, latching onto her with a loud groan.

“Rob,” she pled as his mouth worked her breast, “My lord, this is most improper,” she said, tangling her hands in his hair as his tongue laved over her nipple. “Anyone could walk in,” she protested and he moved her so she was laying on her back and he was above her.

“Where are you…?” she began when he rose from the bed. He strode first to the doorway connecting their rooms, locking it and then making his way to the other door, locking that before turning back to her.

“No one will walk in on us now and so help me God I intend to make love to my wife when and where I please be it to morning, noon, or night, propriety be damned.”

Emily’s face flushed from his words and from the way he was staring at her.

Untying his robe, he slid the fabric from her shoulders, watching as it fell around her on the bed.

His gaze was openly lustful, his blue eyes dark, his mouth quirked in an expression that was half grimace, half grin.

Reaching his hand out he grazed her shoulder, brushing hair out of his way, fingertips grazing the silky smoothness of her skin.

“Your skin is positively sinful,” he said, placing a series of kisses from her shoulder up her throat.

“Milk baths,” she breathed out, resting her hands on his chest.

“Did you just say milk baths?”

Nodding her head she gasped as he rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“I’ll be sure to invest in cows,” he said and Emily laughed.

“I don’t actually bathe in milk, husband.”

“You little minx,” he said, grabbing her by the waist and laying her back among the bedcovers.

Peals of laughter sounded through the hallway and the maids, passing from one side of the house to the other smiled at each other knowingly. Pearce, certain that he had missed a call for breakfast or a new fire heard the laughter and turned right back around for the stairs. No sense in interrupting the newlyweds.

Emily’s laughter turned to soft moans and cries of Rob’s name as his kisses turned more frantic, more needy. She watched him kiss his way down her body, stopping to lavish her breasts with attention that left her writhing. It was only as he kissed over her navel that she understood his intent.

Her legs closed instinctively and he caressed them open, rubbing her thighs, leaving soft, wet kisses on her skin, returning to kiss her mouth until she was softly pliant beneath him.

His eyes locked on hers as his head dipped between her legs and at the first stroke of his tongue over her damp folds she shuddered violently, crying out his name and clamping her legs around his head.

She succeeded in bringing him closer and when his tongue licked her again and then again she thrashed about on the bed. Her hands sought purchase in the sheets and it was only his hand twining with her own that steadied her as his mouth began to work over her.

Emily hadn’t known what to expect when it came to marital relations. Her mother had always spoken of it in the vaguest of terms and it always sounded like a boring lesson or something to be endured rather than enjoyed. The few friends she had back home had no real knowledge of their own and could only whisper and titter about things they had heard. The book she’d snuck from her father’s library had offered pictures of the male and female anatomy and discussion of arousal and the most scientific aspects of a physical relationship but nothing in the way it might feel. She had been prepared for Rob to be kind and gentle, had expected he would do his duty, spend the night and be gone in the morning. She had not been ready for him to make her feel things she couldn’t adequately put into words nor had she been prepared for just how much he’d want to do this. And she loved him for it.

He made her feel safe and cherished and beautiful. He listened to her and talked with her and made her laugh even when he was driving her crazy with his stubborn need to take care of everything on his own. It was more than she had ever dared to allow herself to imagine.

He was licking her there; feather light kisses and broad strokes of his wicked tongue and her body was waging a battle; struggle against the intimacy or succumb to its fire. He made the choice for her, his tongue lapping over the bundle of nerves he seemed to take such delight in finding and that brought her such pleasure when he did.

He added his fingers a moment later and the combination of his mouth and hands drove her higher and higher until she felt herself spasming and a flash of white light pierced her vision and she was free falling into oblivion.

When her eyes fluttered open once more Rob was beside her, a broad grin on his handsome face, a devilish gleam in his eyes.

“You look quite satisfied with yourself,” she teased.

“Oh aye but I think it’s you that’s been satisfied, my love.”

Emily blushed, hiding her face in his chest, feeling the rumbling of his laughter.

“You needn’t be so smug,” she retorted, pinching his backside.

His hands wandered to her own backside, drawing her closer, his hardened cock pressed between them.

“I like knowing I can make you come apart with just my mouth and hands,” he said lowly.

“I think I should like to try that,” she answered.

“Try what?”

“Making you come apart with my mouth and hands.”

Rob pulled back to look down at her but she was meeting his gaze with a steady one of her own and he recognized the look in her eyes; the one of curiosity and determination she got whenever she was about to try something new.

“Lay back,” she urged, pushing at his shoulder until he was on his back. She kissed him and that alone was enough to make him groan and then she moved down his throat, her fingernails raking across his nipples before she kissed first one and then the other and Rob grunted his approval, his hips rising of their own accord.

Their eyes met as she kissed down his flat, taut stomach and she watched his abdomen ripple and contract in fascination.

“I don’t know if I’m hurting you or giving you pleasure,” she said as he breathed heavily, a thin sheen of sweat beading on his skin.

“Pleasure,” he mumbled, “Don’t stop,” he pled, his voice ragged.

Her fingers traced over his thighs and just the sight of her naked between his legs nearly had him spilling all over himself. When her hand wrapped around his shaft he groaned so loudly that Emily yanked her hand away as though she’d been burned.

“I…I’m so sorry, I thought you’d want me to…”she stammered out, suddenly bashful.

Taking her hand in his own, Rob brought it back to his cock.

“I want you to,” he said, releasing his hold on her as her fingers curled around him.

“It’s so hot,” she whispered, moving her hand up the shaft slowly, eyes widening in amazement at the way it pulled and throbbed beneath her touch.

It was a strange looking thing, all skin and thick veins with a reddish purple tip that leaked clear fluid and even though she was worried she’d hurt him, she continued to stroke, hand moving slowly, carefully.

Rob was trying desperately to not explode in her hands, thinking about arithmetic and the estate accounts to prolong this intimacy between them but her hand was stroking him with such firm tenderness he knew he couldn’t take much more.

It was her grazing his cock head with her thumb that did him in. Before she could even gasp out his name he’d flipped them so she was beneath him and he was spreading her legs with haste as he positioned his cock at her entrance and slid deep.

Her sharp cry and the sting of her fingernails on his shoulders made him still inside her.

“M’sorry, love,” he said, forgetting that this was all still new to her, that she still needed time to adjust to him.

But her hips canted upwards and her legs wrapped around his thighs, locking him in place as he began to move, slowly at first and then with a more frantic pace.

Her head was tilted back and she was chanting his name like a chorus, each whispered sigh spurring him on, driving him deeper, bringing him closer and closer to his climax.

He latched onto a nipple as his fingers found the bud between her legs and he pumped again and again until she shrieked his name and he felt her walls clenching around him, milking him, sending him straight to heaven.

She traced patterns over his back, swirls and hearts and “I love you” as his breathing resumed its normal rhythm.

This time when Rob met her eyes Emily was the one wearing a smug expression of delight.

“Alright, you’re not the only one who falls apart when touched,” he relented and she kissed him just for conceding.

They fell asleep again, his arm firm around her waist, her head tucked beneath his chin and when they woke Rob made love to her again, placing her leg over his hip and slipping inside of her, one hand at her breasts, the other clutching her own hand tightly in his.

“I didn’t know there were other ways to…” she murmured after.

“So many ways, sweetheart.”

“And do you wish to try them all?”

He nodded, nuzzling her neck and making her laugh. If the only sound he heard for the rest of his life was her laughter, it would be enough.

Pearce practically vaulted from his chair when the bell rang indicating his lordship required assistance. When he entered the room, he found Lord Northland stoking the fire embers, Lady Northland seated in one of the chairs.

“You rang, my lord?”

“Yes, Pearce, would you kindly have some refreshments sent up for her ladyship and me. And perhaps the staff might draw baths for the both of us as well?”

“Of course, my lord. Is there anything else?”

Rob glanced at Emily, smiling at her hair which was still down.

“And have Ashton sent to assist Lady Northland.”

Nodding Pearce took in the young couple before him. They hadn’t stopped smiling at each other and neither seemed to even register his presence.

“What now?” Emily asked as the door shut behind Pearce.

“Now we start forever,” he said, tilting her chin up to kiss her softly.

Forever was something she delighted in knowing awaited them.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Slightly NSFW-ish, mentions of stalking

Paris had been pure bliss. They’d been to the ballet and the Louvre and Rob had spent a ridiculous sum of money on a painting of an olive grove by an artist named Monet that he’d seen Emily admiring. 

They had feasted on baguettes and cheese and visited the Eiffel Tower and taken a river cruise on the Siene. They’d seen a show at the Moulin Rouge and Emily had been at once utterly thrilled and slightly scandalized. Rob had taken full advantage of her titillation and made love to her against the wall of their hotel room, his hands fumbling beneath the skirt of her evening gown, his pants around his knees, their bodies hungrily pressed together. 

Their days were spent together; visiting the sights, walking arm and arm through the city, enjoying meals and shopping for small trinkets and gifts. Their nights were spent in each other’s arms, each learning, each growing more confident, each sharing all the love they felt with the other in the most intimate of ways. 

She wrote letters to Sarah and Anna and sent postcards to Brandon with facts about the city, its churches and monuments. Mail had arrived from Winterfell on the morning of their second to last day with the news that Lady Westeros had indeed been ill on the morning of their wedding due to the fact that she and Lord Westeros were expecting their fourth child in the spring. Rob had taken her to bed that night like a man possessed.

“When you get me with child I want it to be from love and not from some dark desire to best Westeros,” she’d reprimanded him gently. 

He’d sulked the next morning and they’d spent time separately until Rob could no longer bear the silence or her unhappiness and he’d begged her forgiveness and promised to never be so stupid again. 

She had been the one to initiate their lovemaking that night; sweet kisses, gentle caresses, using her mouth upon his throbbing cock for the very first time until he could no longer endure the sweet torment and took her with the same infinite tenderness he had that very first night. 

By the time they departed for Italy things were as they had been before the news from Winterfell. 

When they arrived at their hotel there were already letters waiting for them from Winterfell. Notes from Anna and Sarah filling Emily in on all the happenings from home. The houses and barns were just about finished so they had been busy helping to pack things up and entertain the children. Brandon wrote to both of them; asking Emily if she would find him a photograph of the Colosseum and asking Rob for a book of Roman mythology that his tutor had recommended. Catelyn had all but finished her move to Riverrun though she would continue to stay at Winterfell until Rob and Emily returned home. Jon wrote, assuring them that all was well, that Lord Bolton had been suspiciously absent since the wedding and that Sarah was being strangely calm about it. He was also sure to mention the new shuttlecock set he had acquired, challenging Emily to a rematch in the spring. She wrote back that she would gladly accept the challenge but was afraid that her hair could no longer be used as a wager so she’d have to think of some other small gamble. 

Rob had grunted his approval at this and promptly taken her to bed to demonstrate his gratitude. 

Emily was incandescently happy; loved, cherished, safe. Rob always made her feel safe. When they lay together in bed he’d tell her about his father, tell her things he’d not shared with anyone. He asked questions about her life in America, about her brother who she had so obviously adored. He knew the books she loved to read and she knew just what to say to make him laugh and just what to say when he was upset. He spent hours watching her sleep, memorizing the slope of her nose, the tiny smattering of freckles across its bridge. She found a way to be touching him no matter where they were or what they were doing, whether holding his hand, sitting so her thigh was pressed to his, or letting her fingers linger just a moment longer than necessary as she handed him something. 

They toured Rome, walking the Spanish steps and tossing coins in the Trevi Fountain. They’d been watching a street performer one afternoon when Emily’s eyes had taken note of a small boy looking at her. He’d waved as though he knew her and she looked at him questioningly as he waved a second time. She tugged on Rob’s arm, alerting him to the boy’s presence but when she turned to point him out, he’d disappeared into the crowd. 

Later they’d been browsing a bookstore in search of the title Brandon had requested when the same boy appeared beside Emily in the stacks.

“Lady Northland?” he asked, his accented voice tripping over the words.

“Yes?”

“You come with me, please. I have a note for you.”

“I should get my husb…” she began but the boy took her hand, shaking his head.

“Lord Northland is there,” he pointed to a nearby window display where Rob looked through a book.

“Alright, who is the note from?”

“Come, come,” he urged, taking her hand and leading her through the stacks, down a winding staircase, along a dimly lit hallway, and through a dusty backroom before stepping into an alley. 

“Where are we? Where’s this note you have for me?” she asked, momentarily panicked. There were three doors behind her and she wasn’t sure which one they had exited.

The boy reached into his pocket and Emily felt the rush of a breeze skate across her face and then saw the boy disappear in a flurry of limbs and tangled clothing. 

“Run!” someone called to her and she yanked on the handle of the nearest door. It was locked. 

The boy let out a squeal of pain and Emily looked again, unable to make out anything but the profile of his attacker. 

“Run, Emily. Go!” the person ordered and she grabbed at the second handle, feeling it give beneath her fingers. She tore through the room, pausing as a shot rang out and nearly running Rob over as she took the corner into the hallway.

“Em? Emily? Are you alright?” he asked, looking her over for signs of harm.

“A boy...outside...said he had a note,” she painted but Rob was already pushing through boxes to  
reach the door. 

Leaning against the wall she attempted to slow her breathing as the shop owner came past and his wife murmured to Emily in a mix of Italian and English.

The two men returned a few moments later, both looking grim.

“The boy is gone,” Rob said, reaching for his wife’s hand. 

“But someone...there was another person. I...he must have prevented the boy from shooting me.”

Rob shook his head, “I don’t think the boy planned to harm you. I think he meant to give this to you,” he said, handing her a thick, creamy note card embossed with the name of a Parisian hotel they had stayed in.

“I’m with you wherever you go,” the note read in neat, feminine script.

“But who...I don’t understand.”

“Em, I think someone is watching you.”

Emily’s face was stricken when she looked up at him, “But why?” 

“I don’t know but that’s what we’re going to find out.”

The polizia had arrived and taken Emily’s statement along with the notecard. Their own search of the alley had revealed nothing further and after assuring Robb they would post a guard near the hotel, there was little more that could be done. 

Robb had stopped to send a telegram to Jon, briefly explaining the situation and urging him to be vigilant in his watch over the estate.

Emily had shivered all the way back to the hotel, not even Rob’s coat could keep her warm. He’d asked for a bath to be drawn for her and a fire to be lit in their rooms. He’d drawn the curtains himself after peering out of every window and locking the doors that led to the balcony. 

She was already ensconced in the large claw foot tub, swirls of steam rising from the water, the scent of roses permeating the room. She’d drawn her knees to her chest, hugging herself as the water lapped lazily along the edges of the tub.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” he asked softly, coming to kneel beside the tub. 

Her eyes were filled with tears when she turned to face him, “I am so sorry for this, Rob. I’ve caused nothing but trouble since I’ve arrived and it seems it’s only going to be worse now that we’re married.”

“Emily, sweetheart, none of this is your fault. Someone attacked you. Someone is following you. You haven’t done anything to warrant this. It’s probably because of me that all of this is happening.”

“But why? What’s to be gained by hurting me or frightening me?”

Rob sighed, running a hand through the waves of his hair, “I think the hope was that it would scare you away. And now, I think it may have taken a more sinister turn.”

“Do you think someone is trying to...hurt me?”

He nodded, pained by the look of panic and fear that crossed her face.

“Listen to me, Emily. I will never let anything happen to you. Never. Do you understand me?”

She nodded, “I’m so scared, Rob.”

“I know, I know you are. But I swear that we are going to find out who is behind this and you’ll never have to be scared again.”

Her smile was tiny and he wished there was a way he could prove to her that she was safe. 

“Will you...would you...perhaps you might join me in the bath, my lord? I would very much like for you to hold me.”

Rob gave her a long, slow smile, one of his looks that made her toes curl and her stomach flip flop. And in a moment he was naked beside the tub, his broad shoulders giving way to his muscular chest and slim waist. The coarse, dark hair of his chest tapering to a small trail from his navel, down lower to his jutting member and firm, strong thighs and legs.

“Do you find me acceptable, wife?” he asked, voice husky. 

“Quite,” she agreed, blushing under his wanton stare.

“Slide up,” he said and she did as he asked, watching him step into the water and settle his large frame behind her.

“Something is missing,” he said, capturing her between his arms and drawing her towards him so her back rested against his chest, her head against his shoulder. “That’s what it was. I was missing you in my arms,” he said into her ear, kissing the crown of her head, letting his fingers comb idly through her hair.

This had been another surprise; how much she would enjoy having him so intimately near. He’d joined her in the bath one evening in Paris and while that evening had led to other more amorous pursuits, the baths they had shared since had become a way for them to relax together. They spoke little and once Emily had nearly fallen asleep to Rob’s eternal delight. Mostly they just held one another, taking turns washing each other’s hair and bodies. His hands infinitely gentle with her, hers exploring over every ridge and plane of the body she was coming to know and love so well. 

She was laying over him, her fingers running soft circles over the coarse hair on his chest as the water turned cold and she began to shiver. 

“You’re going to catch a chill,” he whispered, moving so he could rise from the tub and help her out. He bundled her into a plush towel, assisting her into her dressing gown and leading her into the bedroom where the fire crackled in the grate. 

“You aren’t leaving?” she asked as he turned towards the door that led to their adjoining rooms.

“Just for my robe. I left it on the bed this morning when I changed. I’ll only be a moment.”

“Don’t...please don’t leave me,” she murmured, voice breaking, “I don’t want to be alone.”

She was trembling on the settee where he’d left her and her eyes were filled with fear. 

“Oh Em, nothing is going to happen, sweetheart.”

“But what if it does? What if whoever is watching me...watching us gets one of us alone? I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you, Rob.”

“Shh, it’s alright,” he soothed, drawing her into his arms, “We’re going to figure out who it is, Em. I swear to you.”

Tremors racked her small frame and he wanted to pummel whoever was causing this terror. 

He whispered reassurances into her ear, cradling her against him, drawing the blanket over the back of the piece of furniture over them until her breathing slowed and her tight grip on his hand faltered and slid to her side. 

Tucking her beneath the cool sheets of the bed he hastily found his own robe and returned to the room as soon as possible. He checked that all of the doors and windows were locked tightly and that the curtains of the room were drawn tightly. Sliding the ornate wooden dresser in front of the door that led to the other room and wedging the desk chair beneath the handle of the door that opened into the hallway, he took the silver letter opener from the desk, tucking it beneath his pillow as he climbed into bed. It wasn’t a perfect security plan but he hoped if anyone tried to break in that the furniture would stall them long enough for him to arm himself with the letter opener. 

A restless night followed, Rob on high alert to every sound, every movement of light in the dark room, every phantom shadow. He finally fell to sleep sometime after the nearby church tower struck six, one arm around Emily, the other beneath his pillow, fingertips grazing the weapon he’d placed there. Nothing would happen to Emily so long as he was there. 

******  
A reassuring telegram arrived from Jon the next day suggesting that everything was quite at Winterfell. A separate one that Rob kept from Emily intimated that there seemed to have been some problems among the staff with one of the male butlers reporting to Pearce that his roommate, a Mr. Royce, had been behaving suspiciously since before the wedding. Royce had vanished before he could be spoken with and a search of the room had indicated a tear in the mattress just large enough to hide something. 

Find Royce and call in help from the tenants, Rob had written back. 

After two days of hardly leaving their rooms, Emily asked if they might return to England sooner than they had planned. Neither one of them felt comfortable walking around the city and while they had planned to travel down the coast, Emily was anxious about being followed and wanted to be home with their family and someplace that felt safe.

“I am sorry, Rob,” she’d apologized tearfully and he’d soothed her, offering a return trip to make up for the time they’d lost once the whole situation was resolved. 

During the return journey home, Emily often felt as though she was being watched, felt as though eyes were watching her. There had been at least two times that she’d caught sight of someone who looked familiar in a crowd or in another passenger car but just as soon as the feeling came it passed.

He rarely left her side, her unease and fear written clear on her face and no matter how she tried to put on a brave face, Rob knew she was anxious.

The tension in her face eased a bit when the car took the crest and Winterfell came into view. She sighed, nestling back into his arms.

“Home,” she said.

“Home,” he agreed, kissing the top of her head.

Brandon was jumping excitedly in the drive, Grey beside him barking with anticipation. Anna rushed out the front door as the car pulled to a stop and Catherine followed a moment later. Hugs and greetings were exchanged as the staff began to unload the car.

“Welcome home Lady Northland,” Pearce greeted with a small bow.

“Thank you, Pearce. It’s so lovely to be home.”

Grey nipped at Emily’s fingers and she bent down to scratch behind his ears, “And it’s lovely to see you too.”

“Where are Jon and Sarah?” Rob asked, reaching for Emily’s hand as they headed towards the house.

“Walking in the gardens. We didn’t know you’d be back so early,” Catherine said.

“Did you bring us gifts?” Brandon asked.

“Brandon!” Catherine scolded and he looked momentarily chastened.

“All kinds of treasures for each of you,” Emily promised, “When the trunks are unpacked I’d imagine you’ll find quite a few things with your name on them.”

Brandon hugged her then, an unexpected gesture and Emily’s eyes swam with tears when he pulled away. 

“He has missed you both,” Catherine said, pulling the bell for tea as Rob and Emily sat on the settee across from Catherine and Anna.

“Tell me everything,” Anna begged, “What was the Moulin Rouge like? And is the Trevi Fountain filled with money? What about the Eiffel Tower? Is it as tall as it looks in pictures?”

“Give us a minute, Anna,” Rob said, “It’s been a long trip and we need to catch our breath.”

But Jon and Sansa appeared in the doorway just then and there was no chance to take a moment because Sarah was upon Emily as soon as they laid eyes on each other whispering that she needed to talk to her alone just as soon as she could. Jon was equally delighted to see her and Rob though he reined his enthusiasm in, shaking Rob’s hand and kissing Emily quickly on the cheek.

“I took care of that matter you wrote me about,” he said quietly to Rob as the tea was poured and served.

“And?”

“And the gentleman in question has been located though they are waiting to apprehend him until it can be done quietly and without causing a scene.”

Rob nodded, “I need this resolved quickly. Emily is sick with worry and I fear she blames herself for whatever is happening.”

Jon cast a glance at his cousin’s bride who looked pale and anxious despite her best efforts to appear calm and composed. 

“I’ll reach out to my man today to ascertain what the next steps will be,” he said, “There is, however, another matter I wish to discuss with you.”

Rob raised an eyebrow.

“It’s nothing to do with this business with Emily. It’s...it’s of a more personal nature.”

“Yes, of course. Do you wish to speak privately?”

“If we might.”

Rob nodded, crossing the room to Emily to whisper where he was going before ordering Grey to stay where he was at Emily’s feet. 

*****  
With tea finished and Anna off to the stables with Brandon, Catherine had left to see to some final packing she had to do. 

There had been a decidedly awkward moment when Pearce had entered and asked if her ladyship wished to see the dinner menu and Catherine had risen from her seat to look at the paper he held in his hand. She’d realized her mistake as soon as she saw the stricken look on the butler’s face, immediately handing the paper to Emily who’d nearly forgotten that Pearce was now referring to her and not to Catherine. 

“Are you quite well, sister?” Sarah asked Emily.

“Hmm? Oh yes, I’m well. Fatigued, of course from the journey but marvelously happy to be home with all of you.”

“I have something I wish to tell you,” Sarah said, wringing her hands together in her lap. 

“Why do you look as though you’re about to confess to treason?” Emily asked, suddenly panicked. 

“It’s nothing like that, only, I fear you may find me reckless and imprudent once I tell you.”

“Sarah, I promise that whatever it is I will not think any less of you.”

“Do you remember my feelings for Lord Dreadfort?”

“Of course. You were quite enamored with him as I recall.”

Sarah looked down at her hands, “Was enamored with him. You see, shortly after you and Rob left Winterfell Lord Dreadfort followed me into the garden and attempted to...he...he attempted to take liberties with me.”

Emily’s face flew to her mouth, “No, Sarah, please tell me…”

“He was unsuccessful in gaining what he so clearly desired though he was quite rough with me and did manage to tear my dress in his...frenzied outburst but one of Jon’s men heard me struggling and came upon us just in time to stop Dreadfort.”

“And he didn’t…?” Emily asked.

Sarah shook her head.”You must know I never encouraged him to behave in this way towards me. Yes, we danced and I admired him and even flirted a bit but I never ever said or did anything to make him think I was that kind of girl.” 

“No, of course not,” Emily said though she wondered how Jon had managed to keep this piece of information from Rob who was sure to be outraged when he found out, “Is that what Jon wanted to speak with Rob about?”

“No. Well, yes, in part, but it’s not the only thing he wished to converse with him about.”

“I’m quite confused.”

“It was Jon who saw to it that Dreadfort was removed immediately and Jon himself who slept outside my door those first nights when I was terrified Dreadfort would return. He’d walk with me and keep me company when Mother was too busy preparing for the move and he went out of his way to make sure I was included in things he did with Anna and Brandon. He arranged the most lovely picnic only it snowed and we had to move things inside. He plays cards very well and is very well read and accomplished. Did you know he speaks Italian, Spanish, and French? And he plays the piano almost as well as me. Oh, I should not have said that, it was rude. But he is an excellent duet partner and I…”

Dawning realization was writ large on Emily’s face, “You...You’ve fallen in love with Jon.”

Sarah nodded and she looked so miserable Emily could have laughed. 

“I didn’t mean to. He’s always been around and I’ve never felt that way towards him but he was so kind and patient with me after everything and then so attentive...I couldn’t help but begin to have feelings for him.”

Emily took the young woman’s hands in her own, “I will admit that I am surprised,” she began, shaking her head when Sarah began to protest, “But only that it took you so long to realize what a good man he is.”

“You think he’s...that I’m worthy of him?”

“A perfect complement, Sarah. And is this what Jon wished to speak with Rob about?”

“It’s precisely what I asked to speak to him about,” Jon said from the doorway where he and Rob now stood side by side.

“Jon!” Sarah said, rising from her seat to look first at her beloved and then at her brother.

“Lord Snowden has asked for my permission to court you, Sarah, and I have agreed...on one condition.”

Sarah looked at her brother.

“You must not keep things from me. Either one of you. Had I known about Dreadfort I would have returned post haste to see that he was punished for his wicked behavior. And I would have been able to grant you my permission then.”

He held up a hand as Sarah moved to speak.

“However, I understand that this... unfortunate incident also allowed the two of you the time and chance to grow in your feelings and for that, I am most grateful.”

“So you are...happy then?” Sarah asked.

“I know well what it is to find the other half of one’s heart,” he said, eyes meeting Emily’s fleetingly before Sarah flung herself into his arms.

“Thank you, Rob. You have made me more happy than you can know.”

“No more secrets,” he said, holding her at arms length. 

“No more,” she promised and then smiled as Jon took her hand in his own, “May we tell Mother?”

“She would consider it a personal affront if you did not.” 

As the pair left the room, Rob drew Emily near, wrapping his arm about her waist.

“That was a lovely thing you told Sarah just now,” she said.

“It’s true. I wish for all the people I love and care about to find someone who completes them in the way you complete me, Em,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her.

“I am well loved, husband.”

“You are, my darling. Now, it has been a long journey and an afternoon full of surprises and I think, perhaps, a rest before dinner is in order.”

“That would be lovely but there is so much to be done. I need to see to the unpacking and there’s so many household tasks to be attended to.”

“A rest, sweetheart,” he repeated, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“But Rob there is…”

He kissed her again, drawing her into his arms and letting his mouth linger over her own.

“Rest,” she said, a soft smile on her face.

“Rest,” he answered, his own smile quite cheeky.

Her laughter rang through the halls as he picked her up and swung her about.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. Be warned that this chapter contains sexual content.

Rob’s head was tilted back on the damp pillowcase, his hands firm on Emily’s hips as she rocked above him. 

“Emily,” he groaned, reaching for a breast as she leaned forward to kiss him.

She had woken him with exploring fingers, her breath warm against his chest as she kissed her way down his body before taking hold of him and kissing his cock. 

He’d allowed her explorations to continue, reveling in the feel of her warm, wet mouth wrapped around him with such intent. Her fingers searching for his own made him moan loudly. He was besotted with her, had to have her near, spent his days thinking about getting her alone and even then it wasn’t enough. 

When he’d nearly peaked, he pulled her up his body, settling her over his cock and watching as she sheathed him, her head falling back in pleasure, her hair tickling his legs, her face frozen in a mask of pleasure.

Her initial movements were jerky and Rob reached for her hips, slowing her pace and range of motion with a soothing whisper.

“There you are, sweetheart. That’s better.”

Her thighs gripped his waist like a vice and her mewling of his name made him thrust harder, his own speed picking up as she chased her climax.

His lips latched around her nipple and she groaned, clutching at his chest, her walls tightening around him.

His final few thrusts were deep, her backside cradled in his hands as she shuddered and gasped through her climax. He was only a moment behind her, the squeezing of her body around him sending him spiraling into oblivion.

When he was able to open his eyes a few moments later he found her propped on an arm beside him, a wide grin on her face.

“Whatever has you so pleased this morning, Lady Northland?” he asked, meeting her halfway for a quick kiss.

“Mmm,” she sighed as if deep in thought, “I’m married to the most beautiful man.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“He has the most exquisite curls,” she began, threading her fingers through his hair, “And divine eyes, like the color of the sky on a clear day. And then there is his body. It’s positively sinful in its strength and function.”

“And how does her ladyship find it functions?”

“Beautifully,” she said as his hand tangled through her hair, capturing the back of her neck and bringing her close for a kiss.

A knock on the door interrupted them and Emily pulled the covers over herself before Rob called out to enter.

“My lord, my lady,” Pearce greeted, averting his eyes, “I am most sorry to bother you but an urgent message has just arrived from Lord Snowden and I thought you would want to know.”

Rob nodded, taking the missive from the man who bowed before shutting the door quietly behind him.

“What is it, my love?” Emily asked, sitting up beside him as he opened the note.

“It’s Royce. Jon writes that his men have apprehended the man and they are awaiting my arrival before questioning him,” he said, throwing back the bedclothes to reach for his dressing gown.

They had been back for nearly two weeks and Emily felt like a prisoner in her own home. Aside from walks in the garden with at least two other people and one of Jon’s men always about and a trip into the village with Rob, she hadn’t left Winterfell. She had yet to pay a visit to the Dowager Countess at Riverrun and she missed riding with Anna and the long walks she had taken through the estate before all of this. 

“And you will involve the local constable, won’t you?”

“If this Royce knows anything than yes, of course.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed, “Promise me you won’t do anything rash. No. Promise that you’ll come back to me,” she said.

“I have every intention of spending every morning for the next sixty years doing exactly what we just did,” he said, drawing her to her knees and kissing her deeply.

“Please be careful, my love.”

“I should be back for dinner. Don’t wait on me if I’m not.”

Nodding she gripped his hand in her own as he turned to go to his own chambers.

“I love you, Rob.”

“And I love you, Em. I’ll be back shortly, you’ll see.”

******

The man sat slumped over the table, head in his arms, his dark hair unkempt and dirty. This was not how things were meant to go. He should have been in his new lodgings, beginning his new job, leaving all of this behind him. Instead he’d spent the last weeks like a fugitive; sleeping in alleyways and park benches, pickpocketing for money or valuables he could sell, eating whatever he could with the little money he had, looking over his shoulder constantly. 

It had all gone to hell after the wedding when the drops he’d so carefully put into Lady Northland’s glass of champagne hadn’t been touched. At the moment she’d been about to drink that awful cousin of his lordship’s had arrived to talk with the newlyweds. Fearing that another might take it he’d cleared it away, throwing it in among scraps of vegetable peels and food deemed inedible by the cooks. When he’d explained what had happened to his boss the man had raged about his incompetence, his inability to do the job for which he had been hired and then with a final hissed warning had told Royce to get as far away from the Northlands and their estate as possible or he’d turn him into the constable himself. 

Royce wasted no time in removing himself from Winterfell, sneaking out while the household slept but only after dropping the empty vial along the corridor where the guests had stayed in the hopes that no one would trace it back to him. 

His fatal mistake; the one that had him sitting in this room, had been spending too much time in one place. He’d been moving from place to place, never spending the night in the same spot, traveling from village to village after a day or two in one place. But as the days and nights had grown colder, it had become harder and harder to bunker down on a park bench or in the woods. He’d managed to spend a night in a barn, kept warm by the horse he slept alongside and only narrowly escaped being caught by the farmer the next morning. Eventually he’d found an abandoned warehouse in a dilapidated part of the next village. Many of the windows had been broken out and several other vagrants had already settled into their own grimy corners but no one protested when he staggered in from the driving rain and fell into the nearest empty spot. He’d slept for what felt like hours and when he woke, a small fire was burning in a barrel and one of the men shuffled over to offer him a drink. It wasn’t a place he’d ever imagined he’d wind up but it was mostly dry and when the fire was burning it was warm and he and his fellow squatters shared the little food and drink they had with each other. 

A gnawing suspicion that he was being followed had started several villages back but he’d never been able to identify the same face twice, never seen anyone outwardly staring, and was certain that if his former employer had been following him, he would have been dead after the first day. The farther he was from Winterfell, the more days that passed, the less cautious he became. 

He’d been caught off guard when the tall red haired man dressed all in black had appeared beside him in the alleyway. He’d thought about trying his luck at running but when a second man in black appeared at the end of his path and a third behind him, he’d held up his hands in surrender and let them take him. They’d blindfolded him and when they’d removed the rag covering his face he’d found himself in a small room. There was a cot in one corner with several blankets stacked upon it, a table with a pitcher of water and a tray of bread and cheese with an apple. A lantern hung on a hook and a book, The King James Bible, sat on a small stool. 

“Where am I?” he’d asked, but his captors had backed out of the room, bolting the door behind them. 

He slept and ate the food they brought him three times a day, attempting to find out where he was and who his captors were everytime someone entered. This went on for three days and Royce thought he’d go insane from the silence if the boredom didn’t kill him first. 

One night as the guard placed his dinner down he grunted in Royce’s direction, “His lordship will be seeing you after breakfast tomorrow.”

“His...his lordship?” Royce said, voice rough.

“Snowden. This is his estate yer on.”

Snowden. Snowden. The name was so familiar yet he couldn’t place it in his mind. It was only when the man appeared in the doorway, another slightly taller man behind him that Royce had realized why he knew the name. 

*****

Rob had not returned for dinner nor did he come the next day or the day after. He’d sent word that he and Jon had apprehended their man and were now working to verify his story as well as working with Scotland Yard to identify other conspirators.   
He assured her that all was well and that they would soon be free from the shadow that had haunted them all this time.

“And how are you feeling now that you are back at Winterfell?” Lady Payne asked from beside her as they walked the garden pathways.

“Less anxious now that we are home but still as though I am being followed at every turn,” she said, nodding her head towards the man in black who had just stepped back into the shadows.

“They really are remarkably stealthy,” Brienne said and Emily laughed.

“Quite. It’s both impressive and extremely agitating.”

“You cannot blame Lord Northland for wanting to keep you safe, Emily.”

“No, of course not. I shall just be relieved when all this business is behind us and I don’t have to feel like a prisoner in my own home.”

They were quiet a while, walking a bit further along until Brienne interrupted the silence.

“Might I ask you a question, Emily?”

“Of course.”

“Is there anyone who might have been...upset by your engagement and marriage to Lord Northland?”

“What a strange question! Whatever makes you ask that?”

“I wondered if perhaps there were other suitors your father may have considered or even turned down who may hold a grudge against your husband?”

“That is...no. I don’t believe there were any other matches considered. If there had been I was never made aware of them certainly.”

Brienne nodded, her eyes scanning Emily’s face.

“I hope I am not speaking out of turn but the more you have told me about your troubles, the more I wonder if this isn’t all motivated by jealousy.”

“That’s...I’d never...I…” Emily began, distracted by the shouting of her name coming through the hedges.

“Here! We’re here!” she called back and Rob came around the corner a moment later.

“It’s done. Everything is solved and the parties involved have confessed,” he said, taking her hand in his own. 

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Come and I’ll tell you everything inside,” he said, greeting Lady Payne with a small bow.

 

Despite Rob’s delight at having found Royce and wheedling what he knew from him, he was not looking forward to telling Emily that her father had been the one bankrolling the entire plan.

“Royce was hired by a Mr. Cavendish, a solicitor for Cavendish and Ashford. The Marquess of Ashford’s second son, Lionel, is the Ashford in the firm,” Jon said, watching the slow dawn of realization cross Emily’s face.

“Cavendish hired Royce after the first plan failed,” Rob continued. 

“First plan? What…” Emily asked.

“A Mr. Tyler’s services were acquired to attack you, Emily. He wasn’t meant to truly harm you, just scare you enough to make you want to leave,” Jon said, “Obviously he failed on two levels since he caused significant injury and it only managed to make you and Rob draw closer. And you didn’t want to leave, it just made you more determined to stay. 

“When that failed, Tyler was pulled because they decided they needed someone on the inside, someone who could better watch you, someone who would be undetected if they were around the estate. Royce was promised a new job with better pay and his own apartment if he could get into service here.”

“And the plan then was to...hurt me? Kidnap me?” she asked quietly.

“I’m afraid the plan was to poison you, Em,” Rob said softly, coming to sit beside her and taking her hand in his own. 

“Poison? Oh. Oh you mean...my father...he wanted to have me killed?”

“It appears that the motive was to prevent Rob from getting your inheritance. No bride, no money would come to the estate,” Jon finished. 

“Just what my father always wanted. All his money and no daughter.”

“Em, I think…” Robb began as she stood, shaking free from his hand.

“I think I need to be alone for a little while,” she whispered, voice edged with pain.

“Are you sure that’s a good…” Rob began.

“Please. Please, Rob. I just need some time to think.”

The two men exchanged glances with Jon nodding slightly and Rob giving his consent. As soon as Emily left the room he whistled low and Grey trotted over.

“Watch her, boy,” he said to the dog who left the room in search of his mistress.

“And we have reason to believe that the boy in Italy, that the note, was all part of the plan as well?” Rob asked.

“According to Royce he reported the entire itinerary of your honeymoon to Cavendish which leads me to believe that it was part of the next phase of their plan since it didn’t work with Royce.”

“He’s never going to stop trying to destroy her, is he? How can a father hate his own child so much?”

“Scotland Yard thinks they’ll be hard pressed to connect all of this to Morgan or even to Ashford for that matter. All of the communication and money exchanged hands with Cavendish who foolishly put his trust in his partner. They have Royce, Tyler is certain to make a misstep, and you said yourself the boy was Italian and likely working for Cavendish. I think it’s highly unlikely that Morgan would attempt anything else right now. There’s too many sets of eyes watching him. Ashford will be reticent to get involved again even if Mrs. Morgan is his cousin and it could be months, years even before Morgan is able to build up such an elaborate network again. And by then you and Emily could have your own heir and Morgan wouldn’t be able to touch the money.”

Rob nodded, a sharp, cursory movement, “That still doesn’t leave me with anything comforting to tell my wife.”

****** 

She was curled up in his bed, face pressed into his pillow, one hand fisted at her side. Grey lay on the rug beside the bed, picking up his head with a plaintive whine when Rob entered the room. 

Shedding his jacket and riding boots he slipped under the covers beside her, reaching for her hand at the same time she unclenched her fingers to reach for him. 

Turning one swollen red eye toward him she peeked up at her husband and the love and concern she saw written there brought a new rush of tears.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright, my love. Shh,” he soothed, rubbing her back gently. 

He held her as she trembled and sobbed in his arms, whispered how much he loved and adored her, how he’d never let anything happen to her, how loving her had made him a better man. He kissed her eyes, the tip of her nose, her lips, anything to try and take even an ounce of pain from her. When her cries finally stopped and her breathing slowed he realized she’d fallen into an exhausted sleep. Holding her in his arms he swore to haunt Henry Morgan’s every step until the horrid man knew what it was to feel constant worry and fear that someone was watching. And when the old wretch took his last breath Rob vowed to be there to whisper in his ear that he could burn in Hell.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of marital relations.

Days turned to nights and then weeks passed and soon it was nearly Christmas. Emily recovered slowly from the shock of discovering her father was behind all the madness leading up to and following the wedding. It took a bit of cajoling from Rob and Sarah and Anna for her to leave Winterfell but a visit to the farms to see the new barns and houses along with the children had renewed her spirit and soon she and Anna were riding once more and she was visiting Riverrun with Sarah two or three times a week and she was practicing the conjugation of French verbs with Brandon. 

Rob remained as steady as ever; quarreling with her when she finally did climb that tree with the farmers’ son and then kissing her senseless later. He merely set the letter from the Reverend Ames thanking him for the generous donation to the parish choir on her dressing table and found a note in her perfect penmanship upon his desk later that day. “Their robes were really quite shabby looking, my darling. I sold a brooch from that dreadful man and donated the proceeds in your name. It seemed only right that it come from you.”  
He was forever reshelving the books she’d remove from the library and leave laying about their room, his study, the parlor. After returning Pride and Prejudice for the fourth time in as many days he hired one of the villagers to make her a small bookcase for their chambers and filled it with the books he knew she loved best. 

His valet was growing accustomed to his new mistress helping his lordship dress in the morning and undress in the evenings. The household was running as smoothly and efficiently as ever and the accounts were finally all in the black. 

They entertained; hosting Lord and Lady Payne for several days after they returned from their own trip to Italy. Jon was a frequent guest and they traveled to Blackwall Castle for a few days time. Lord Greyjoy turned out to be remarkably adept at cards, besting everyone easily. He was also quite funny and once the initial unease from their first meeting had passed, Emily found herself enjoying the young man’s company. Catherine joined them nearly every evening for dinner though she made a point of reminding everyone that Emily was now the lady of the house.

With Christmas so near the house was a flurry of activity; servants working to decorate and clean, the cook making cookies and pies and pastries which Emily, Anna, and Sarah delivered to the farmers and their families and to the villagers as well. There was the normal day to day tasks to be completed along with a list of necessary preparations for the Christmas meal they would be hosting. The ladies and Jon had taken a trip to London to shop, spending the night in their London townhome before returning to Winterfell where Rob had immediately whisked her away to bed because he felt he’d been remiss in his matrimonial duties since they’d been apart. Emily had laughed until he unlaced her corset and taken a breast into his mouth. 

Grey watched her wherever she went, always near, always on high alert for the slightest sound, always aware of small changes in her tone or a shift in mood. Rob was beginning to grow jealous of how often he found the dog with her. 

Taking a break from the whirlwind of activities Emily walked the pathways of the garden, Grey trotting alongside her. She’d not been through the maze of pathways that led to the white tree in quite some time and since it was growing colder and darker she didn’t want to get too far from the house. Hearing giggling as she made her way she considered turning around not wishing to interrupt Jon and Sarah who she was certain were on the other side of the hedge. They’d taken to stealing away to this spot for a few moments of privacy.

Emily caught sight of Jon’s dark head bending towards Sarah’s own red haired crown and averted her eyes for a moment before clearing her throat.

“Oh, Emily,” Sarah startled, “We were just…”

“I know what was happening. Just be relieved it was me and not your brother.”

“But Rob knows,” she protested.

“He does. But there’s a difference between knowing and seeing, especially when it’s your sister,” Emily said, smiling at the pair of them.

“Thank you for the reminder,” Jon said, bashfully running a hand over his neck. 

“Now, since I have you both here I wanted to ask what you thought about a day for sledding and skating?”

“But there’s no snow…”Jon said.

“Not yet, but I’m sure there will be some and Pearce mentioned that the pond nearby freezes over especially now with the colder weather and that when all of you were little your parents would set up benches nearby so you could skate.”

Sarah was smiling wistfully, “Father taught us all to skate there. I don’t think any of us have been since...well, you know.”

“Good. Then it’s settled then. As soon as the pond is frozen over and as soon as we get some snow we’ll make a day of it,” Emily said.

“We should invite guests, make a party of it,” Sarah said.

“An excellent idea. You’ll come back with me to draw up a guest list?” Emily asked. 

“I think we need to invite that young man who came with Lord and Lady Payne the last time. Lord…? What was his name, Jon?”

“Lord Perceval. Old family. He’s the second son so he makes his living as a captain in his majesty’s navy.”

“He seemed quite smitten with Anna when he last visited and he tells the most interesting stories.”

“Smitten with Anna?” Emily mused, “Whatever happened while we were away?”

Their laughter rang out through the maze as they made their way back to the house.

*******

The temperature fell that very night and held fast for the next few days. By the time the snow arrived Thursday evening, Sarah was convinced that Emily had the ability to predict the weather. 

“Do you think you might be persuaded to put aside business matters for one day?” Emily asked as she crawled beneath the covers and snuggled against Rob’s chest.

“Why? What sort of frivolity have you already planned?” he asked, shutting the book he had been reading. 

“Nothing. Well, only...I just thought that perhaps you might enjoy a day spent outdoors. Crisp air, beautiful snow…”

“How many people have you already invited?”

“Only a small party, really. Your mother, sisters, and Brandon, of course. Jon, Lord Greyjoy, Lord and Lady Payne and their friend Lord Perceval though I believe it’s actually Captain Perceval.”

“And what will this party entail?”

“Skating and sledding and hot chocolate by the fire and…”

He stopped her with a kiss, pulling back for a moment only to kiss her a second time.

“You aren’t cross then?”

“My darling, I am never cross with you.”

“That’s not true. You were quite cross with me yesterday when you saw the household accounts for the Christmas expenses and then last week when Grey and I wandered a bit farther than intended and came back late and two weeks ago you reprimanded me for being too lenient with Brandon and his studies and what about…”

Rob chuckled. Of course she could recall all the instances when he’d been peevish. 

“I am not cross about this. Is that better?”

She nodded, her hair tickling his chest and she gasped when he moved them in one fluid motion so she was on her back and he was pressed between her thighs. 

“Husband,” she said in feigned shock.

“Wife.”

“I believe you’ve forgotten an item of clothing,” she teased, shifting her leg up around his hip and letting his body press hers right where she wanted. 

“Oh dear, whatever shall we do?” 

“I have an idea,” she whispered, cupping his face in her hands and pulling him down for a kiss. 

“It seems we are of a similar mind,” he said and then proceeded to lift the hem of her nightdress. 

*****

“This is lovely, Emily,” Brienne called out to her, skating across the ice with ease despite her height. 

“I’d hoped it would be! The weather was extremely accommodating.”

“It’s been ages since I’ve done this.”

“Have you skated a long time?”

“No, I didn’t learn until a few years ago. Patrick, that is Lord Payne and I were on holiday in Switzerland and I learned there. And you?”

“My brother taught me when I was just a little girl. One of many things he taught me because my parents would not.”

Brienne laid a gentle hand on Emily’s arm, “I was most sorry to hear about everything that had happened with your father.”

Emily could feel the hot sting of tears that sprang to her eyes unbidden. 

“Thank you.”

“I’m sure you know this but you have many friends here, people who care about you and only wish to see you happy.”

Emily nodded again as the tears fell down her cheeks. She’d been an emotional wreck these last weeks.

“I consider you one of those people, Brienne,” Emily said finally, squeezing the other woman’s arm back. 

They skated off, breaking off to talk to other people and then winding up back together again with their respective spouses. 

Jon and Sarah had eyes for no one but each other.

“It won’t be long until he’s asking to marry her,” Rob said to Emily.

“And how do you feel about that?”

“Delighted it’s Jon if it has to be someone.”

“It was good of you to be so understanding about them when we came back.”

“As if I’d ever deny anyone else this kind of happiness,” he teased, tilting her chin up for a brief kiss. 

Anna was helping Captain Perceval learn to skate and every so often a peal of laughter would ring out from where they were.

Brandon and Lord Greyjoy had taken to racing each other and Lady Catherine had skated for a while before retiring to one of the benches to watch. 

“Whoever is that with your mother?” she asked as they rounded the corner.

Rob’s arm tightened and she noticed the scowl on his face, “Lord Vale. Uninvited and unwanted as ever.”

“Perhaps your mother invited him,” she soothed.

“And perhaps not. He’s made it a habit of worming his way into my mother’s good graces ever since my father died.”

“Well they have known each other since they were children, my love. Perhaps he only wishes to be a companion.”

“I know very well what he’d like and it is most definitely not my mother’s friendship.He wants her inheritance. It’s no secret my mother will become quite wealthy in her own right upon my grandfather’s death and Vale has had his sights set on that for as long as I can remember.”

“Your Mother is one of the wisest, most sensible people I know. She would never do anything foolish.”

“Yes, but love has a way of making fools of us all, doesn’t it?”

Kissing her cheek he skated toward the spot where his mother and Lord Vale were engaged in conversation. 

Skating alone for a moment Emily took in the snowy trees and the stillness. She felt the nip in the air as it swirled past and she shivered a little. Closing her eyes for just a moment she breathed in the crisp, clean smell of newly fallen snow before opening her eyes into the faint sunshine. Seeing that Rob’s hands were clenched at his sides and that Lord Vale had risen from his seat she began to skate over wanting to put an end to whatever was happening as quickly and quietly as possible. 

She was only a short distance away, could hear Rob’s voice, hard and simmering with controlled anger when the pick at the front of her skate caught in a hidden groove, pitching her forward onto her knees as her ankle twisted and she smacked her elbow on the solid ice when she attempted to catch herself. 

“Emily!” Rob shouted, reaching her in three strides, “Are you alright? What happened?”

Grimacing she moved herself into a seated position, her legs in front of her as she rubbed her sore arm.

“My skate caught in the ice. I hit my elbow and may have hurt my ankle.”

“Call for the Doctor,” he shouted to Lord Payne who took off towards the house. 

“We need to get her off of the ice,”’Jon said, looking around for something.

“Sled to the end of the ice and I’ll carry her the rest of the way,” Rob said, following Jon’s gaze to the nearby sleds. I

Brienne held the wooden bed steady as Rob picked her up and placed her onto it, letting Jon pull her forward so he could shed his skates. 

“Honestly, Rob. This all seems like a bit too much fuss,” she protested, attempting to stand once they were on solid ground. Her leg gave out and she collapsed back onto the sled with a whimper of pain.

He gave her a sharp, knowing look and scooped her into his arms without further protest. 

Settling her onto the settee, Rob stepped back so his mother and the servants could buzz around her, assessing the injuries. Her hand was slightly scraped from the fall but could have been worse if not for her gloves. Her elbow was beginning to bruise and stung where she landed but she could move her wrist and fingers as well as bend her arm.

Catherine gently removed her boot, propping Emily’s foot on a pillow until the doctor could have a better look.

“I’ve ruined the party,” she groaned as everyone came in to check on her.

“Hardly. It was beginning to get chilly and Sarah wanted hot chocolate,” Jon teased, earning him a sharp nudge from Sarah’s elbow.

“You will all stay for tea, won’t you?” she asked.

“We can hardly turn you down, now can we?” Theo said, smiling from the corner.

“No, you cannot. Now please, go enjoy your tea and hot chocolate and whatever little treats Cook has prepared. I’ll join you just as soon as I’m able.”

The doctor arrived as the party moved to the other room and Rob stepped into the hall with Catherine when Emily insisted he give the doctor a moments peace when examining her. 

“Her arm will likely be bruised and sore for the next few days but I cannot detect a sprain or any broken bones. I’ve bandaged her hand to keep the cut clean but it’s more of a scratch than a serious laceration. I do think she’s twisted her ankle and probably given herself a mild sprain. She should stay off of it for the next 24 hours and be sure to keep it elevated to help prevent swelling. Ice and a little bit of this tonic mixed into tea for pain. I’ll be back the day after next to check in on you, Lady Northland,” he said knowingly.

Emily nodded, relieved that she would be up and about for Christmas. 

“You’re accepting your bed rest sentence with much less protestation than I would have expected,” Rob teased when the doctor was gone.

“Just remember that I’m not the only who’ll be resting for the next few days,” she said, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Oh it’s like that, is it?” he asked, leaning forward to kiss her through her laughter. 

“It is indeed.” 

******

By Christmas Eve Emily was up and about once more; a huge relief to her and to Rob who was growing weary of her complaints at needing to stay in bed and rest. 

The day after her fall she’d woken with a dreadful headache and a throbbing pain in her ankle that eased only slightly when wrapped in cold towels. The headache had made her ill and she spent half the morning retching miserably until she fell into a fitful sleep. A worried call to the doctor reassured Rob that the vomiting was likely caused by the headache and the medicine. Though her ankle still throbbed the next day, she’d been able to get up and move about some though she still felt weak and nauseous. Rob had never been so glad to see the doctor who pronounced Emily to be healing well.

Two days before the holiday both Catherine and Emily had fallen unexpectedly ill, and though Emily’s symptoms came and went, Catherine spent twenty-four hours fighting some kind of illness that left her weak and pale. 

Rob could not have been more grateful to see his wife up and about. She was the world’s worst patient and getting her to rest and take necessary precautions from growing more ill or worse, infecting anyone else, had been a nightmare. 

They had agreed to host a large dinner party on Christmas Eve and spend Christmas Day with family and Emily was delighted to be spending their first Christmas as a married couple entertaining friends and family. 

The house had been decorated to Emily’s exacting standards and trees with beautiful ornaments and soft candlelight filled the foyer, the ballroom, and the sitting room. Wreaths adorned doorways and garlands of evergreen and holly berries were strung above fireplaces and around stairway railings. 

“It looks like the inside of Selfridges,”Jon had teased and Rob had grinned. 

“After the last few weeks if I have to personally go and chop down a tree or pay half the estate’s yearly budget on some new bauble or trinket, then I would do so willingly just to see her happy. You’ll understand soon enough, I’m sure.”

Jon grinned, “I understand completely.” And he did. He would do anything to make Sarah happy, anything to see her smile or hear her laugh. If anyone had told him he’d feel this way about Sarah, of all people, he would have suggested they had their head examined. She was demure and ladylike, fashionable, well read, and an extremely talented pianist. She had little interest in sport, hunting, fencing, or fishing but she was a confident rider and could be persuaded to enjoy long walks outdoors. They were opposites in many ways except in the ways that truly mattered most; loyal to family and friends, kind and generous of spirit, and unfailingly devoted to each other. 

******

 

“Well, what do you think?” Emily asked, emerging from her room.

She was dressed in red which highlighted her beautiful skin and dark hair. She had her hair done up in a elaborate coif with red ribbon and beaded pearls wound throughout and she was wearing a string of pearls from the family collection around her neck, tiny teardrop shaped earrings dangling from her ears. 

“You look like a Christmas angel,” he said, pulling her into his arms. 

“It’s not too much, do you think?”

 

“You look beautiful, sweetheart. And I like that you’ve finally decided to wear some of these things,” he said, running his thumb over the pearls at her throat. 

“Your mother said she would be most offended if I did not. I believe her exact words were that she would come and put them on me herself if I didn’t wear them.”

Rob laughed. He could easily imagine his mother traipsing into Emily’s room and forcing her into jewelry she had chosen. 

“And you’re certain you’re feeling well enough for this?” he asked when she gave a small yawn. 

“Yes, of course. The nap earlier helped and I feel rested and refreshed.”

“Well then come along, wife. We have company to attend to.”

 

The evening had been magnificent. The food had been exquisite, the decor had been complimented and admired, and Emily had been an exceptional hostess, seeing to every minute detail. There had been a lovely group of carolers following dinner and Sarah had played the piano, Jon surprising them all by dueting with her on “The Holly and the Ivy.” 

“I didn’t know he had such a lovely voice,” Emily had commented to Sarah later. 

“Neither did I.” 

They had danced the evening away with Lord and Lady Payne, with Lord Greyjoy and a friend of his, Lady Evelyn whom he’d grown up with. Captain Perceval attended, doting on an Anna who’d turned wholly feminine and elegant before their very eyes.

“She asked me to loan her some jewelry,” Catherine had whispered to Emily over punch.

“The headpiece is stunning,” Emily had said, admiring the way the diamonds caught the light, making Anna’s face sparkle. 

It was shortly before two a.m. when all their guests had departed with Christmas wishes and Rob, having seen Captain Perceval to the door found Emily in front of the tree in the sitting room, the embers of the fire burning softly in the grate. 

He wrapped his arms about her waist, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“In case I’ve forgotten to tell you, you’ve been magnificent this evening.”

“Thank you, kind sir. I hoped to throw a party worthy of Winterfell and the Northland name.”

“And you have. This has already been the loveliest of Christmases and that is because of you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my mother look so overjoyed during the holiday season.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve felt so happy at Christmas myself,” she said, turning in his arms, “And that is entirely thanks to you, my love.”

He kissed her then, soft and slow and sweet, his hands cupping her first tenderly.

“I bought you something,” she said when he’d released her.

“I thought we’d agreed; no gifts until Christmas morning.”

“And it is Christmas morning now, is it not?” she asked, handing him a small package wrapped in beautiful silver paper that she’d removed from the tree.

Unwrapping the paper carefully he found a deep blue box inside, silver letter heralding the name of a shop in London that he was unfamiliar with. Pulling the lid open he looked at the item laying inside the velour packing and then to Emily.

“Is this...I...are you certain?” he stammered. 

“Most certain, my love. We have been married for over two months now. If I was not, there would have been some indication by now. And the doctor confirmed it this week.”

“Oh Emily, oh my love,” he whispered, falling to his knees before her and placing his hands upon her stomach.

“That is where your son is right now, dearest.” 

“Or my daughter,” he said, voice welling with emotion.

“Or your daughter,” she replied, placing her own hand over his, loving him for suggesting it could be a girl as easily as a boy.

“I love you, Emily Stark,” he said fiercely, rising to his feet, “Do you hear me? I love you with every fiber of my being and I will do whatever I need to do to keep you and our child safe.”

She kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him near. 

“Happy Christmas, my darling,” she said against his ear.

“Happy Christmas, Em.”

Between them the small chimes on either end of the baby rattle Rob had been holding rang softly, their noise the only sound as the young couple held one another in the wee hours of that Christmas morning.


End file.
